I did everything right

Before I start I want to dedicate this blog to one of my email subscribers. Hannah had been following this blog for quite a while and used to message me to tell me how it made her smile. Hannah lost her battle with cancer this week and despite never meeting her it really upset me. She was only a year younger than me. Her blog quite often bought me to tears and she was a beautifully honest soul. So Hannah, we’ll miss you. I hope this would have made you smile…

So I followed the rules on a first date for once! Am I now loved up and in the early days of a new relationship? Am I buggery. We met on a Friday yet couldn’t exchange numbers (phones aren’t allowed at the British Embassy) so he said he’d track me down. My male friends always say that if a guy is in to you he’ll get in touch, and he did. I agreed to meet him on the Wednesday night. I didn’t drag the conversation out, it was a few messages then I left it. He mailed again Wednesday to confirm and again I didn’t make inane conversation, just said I was really looking forward to it. He picked me up Wednesday evening and I was a chatty, happy soul and we made each other laugh. There were no awkward silences. I was stone cold sober thanks to life in a dry country and when he dropped me home I thanked him for a lovely evening, said I hoped to see him soon and walked in to my building. I looked at the time… I’d been out two hours. My flat mate was surprised to see me so early, seeing as it was just gone 9pm.
‘How’d it go?’ She asked.

‘I haven’t spent two hours slagging off my ex, drinking my body weight in Chardonnay, slurring my words and then putting out, so I’d say it went quite well. Dignity in tack at the end of a first date, that’s an achievement.’

I didn’t text him afterwards. I figured if he was interested he’d get in touch like he did before. That was nearly two weeks ago now. I haven’t heard a peep out of him. Now I have to admit that I didn’t really fancy him straight off but I thought we’d got on well and would have accepted a second date quite happily. I’m not annoyed he’s not text and I haven’t been obsessively checking my phone like many times before. I’m just bloody annoyed that I can do all the things people keep telling me I should do and I STILL don’t get a second date. So it seems I can’t win this dating ‘game’.

Thankfully our office is massive and I haven’t bumped in to him yet. Maybe I should stick to stalking that other guy and having fantasy dates in my head. At least they turn out well.

So, I played by the rules and got a free dinner. And if I’m out here a while I’d better get used to sober dating and no displays of affection. Sounds depressing doesn’t it? Not sure I can be bothered.

Mystery Man

After my last post Mystery Man disappeared off the face of the earth! I’d obviously been keeping my eye out and had started to think I had imagined him. But then, as I’m dashing through the car park with a pile of folders juggling security pass, Blackberry and water bottle I see him. From behind. Yes, I can recognise the back of his head. Sad isn’t it? But due to my rush I couldn’t detour to walk in front of him to take a chance at eye contact.

Later on I saw him again. This time I was with colleagues and he was in a group stood talking. Another missed opportunity. And now he’s disappeared again.

I’m hoping this is all just chance and bad luck. With 1,000 people around I’m not expecting to see him every day, but there’s also the horrible chance that he works out of one of our satellite offices elsewhere and is only at HQ for meetings. So the plan is to network and socialise enough that if he is Kuwait-based then I’ll track him down more discreetly than hanging around corridors hoping for fleeting eye contact. So first step? Hit the Rugby Club Ball at the British Embassy. If we have anything in common he’ll be there.

Fingers crossed!

Stalking or Fate

I work in an office of 900+ people. It’s a massive office and six weeks in to the job and I still have to ask my team’s secretary to escort me to meetings just to ensure I don’t wander around the wrong floor. Signs, department lists and even floor numbers are non-existent and I’m pretty sure it’s all a ploy to confuse the newbies. So with so many people around, and the fact I seem to take a different route every time I need to get from A to B, it’s odd that I keep bumping in to the same guy. Or do I see the same people day in day out and I only notice this guy because he is So. Damn. Fine.

I first noticed him when I was sat having lunch with some colleagues. Across the crowded restaurant I noticed a really good looking specimen eating alone. I had to keep peeling my eyes away. He wasn’t my usual ‘type’ but something held my attention and I kept willing him to look up at me. He didn’t.

I quickly forgot of his existence until a week later I saw him again. This time he was stood outside smoking as I was trying to find the right door for a training session I was late for. I couldn’t cross the road and ask for directions. I was dumbstruck. There was something about him.

Then came the day I saw him EVERYWHERE. I walked in to the staff restaurant and queued behind him. I sat with a colleague to eat and he was on the next table. I was talking to another colleague on a different floor and he walked past me and then that evening I was stood in the shopping mall waiting for friends and he walked out of the lift to the side of me. But at no point have I noticed him notice me. And my colleagues think he’s imaginary because every time I point him out he’s disappeared, has his back to us or something’s in the way. It’s driving me crazy. Who IS he? and why have I, as a strong, sarcastic, independent woman, been reduced to a blushing mess in his proximity?

My friends think it’s fate. They think there’s a rom-com-esque story about to unfold and he’s my ‘someone’. I however am worried that he has noticed me and now thinks I’m stalking him. Am I the crazy brunette he can’t shake off?

Is there a fine line between fate intervening and accidental stalking?

One of my exes would probably argue that fate has nothing to do with it, and that I really am stalking him as this has happened before. Mr S and I were always crossing paths despite living in a fairly large city. When we eventually ended up at the same party he actually questioned the stalking. I still maintain he stalked me (and you did, I know you read this still, despite what you say). We dated, but it fizzled out (diplomatic version of events) and then our paths stopped crossing. Was I meant to know him for a reason, and learn from it? Or is ‘fate’ a concept drawn up by movie studios and romance novels and actually shit just happens?

Whatever the answers to my endless questions I’m intrigued to find out who he is. He’s not wearing a wedding ring so he’s already an improvement on most men I meet. Plus, I’m intrigued to see how I handle Middle Eastern dating… Ie no getting drunk and no walks of shame. Maybe the Middle East will force me in to playing by the rules at last?

I wish I was allowed a glass of wine to get the courage to approach this guy though. Or do I wait for him?

Hold Me

I need a cuddle. in fact, any physical contact with a member if the opposite sex would be appreciated immensely.

In a country where unmarried and women cannot even hold hands in public the chance of me getting a big ole bear hug from a man is zero. I am craving physical contact in a massive way.

I have never considered myself a touchy freely person. In fact, I hate people entering my personal space let alone touching me sometimes. But right now I would quite happily pay for my best male friend to fly out here to deliver one of his ‘the world sucks but you’re fabulous’ hugs. The world doesn’t suck, I just want some contact to prove I can still ‘feel’ something. No man is an island, and no woman should be so deprived that she spends her lunch break wanting to bite the upper arms of the man across the room. This goes further than horny, but I am that as well. I’m starting to feel so uptight that the merest hint of a man and I may well throw myself at them. And then get arrested.

It’s a strange feeling to crave physical contact when you’re surrounded by people day in day out. Maybe it’s hormones, maybe it’s loneliness, but whatever it is batteries won’t solve it.

I’m Married

Ok so I’m not married. No one moves that quick! But I have started wearing a wedding ring so, if anything is going to prolong my dry spell that will. Currently my love life is as dry and barren as the desert surrounding my new home.

So why am I purposefully fending off the opposite sex? Because I have lived in the Middle East for one week and the horny locals have driven me to pretend I am hooked up for all eternity.

I was well aware from my last trip here that men have no shyness when it comes to approaching women. I have also now discovered that age, size, clothing and attractiveness have nothing to do with their reasons for approaching you. You have breasts and no wedding ring and you’re from the West, therefore you’re worth having a crack at. My first day here I noticed people check my hands for a ring and drivers slowing down to have a better look at me before beeping their horns.

One evening I decided to go for a walk around my new neighbourhood with a friend. So as not to draw attention to myself I wore jeans, trainers and a loose fitting polo shirt with my chosen rugby team’s emblem on it. Hair up, the morning’s now worn make-up and I was suddenly a far cry from how I’d usually leave the house. Did this stop the attention? No.

Firstly I accidentally made eye contact with a 20-year-old local. He spotted the shirt and called out asking if I played rugby. I shook my head and continued walking, briskly, down the road. He followed me, calling out at me to turn around. After a while I realised I’d have to answer him. He questioned me about rugby and invited me to watch him in a tournament and asked for my number. I explained my number wasn’t working (not a lie) and showed him my phone saying ‘no service’. Then he wanted my email address. He was persistent I’ll give him that.

I eventually escaped without handing out any contact details. Two minutes down the road a car slowed next to me and the driver wanted to know if we were lost. He must have been late 50s/early 60s and I was thankful for his concern. Although after explaining that no, we weren’t lost and were just enjoying an evening stroll (ridiculous concept in a country of mad drivers and no pavements) he asked if he could take me to a juice bar. I did a double take. This man wasn’t concerned that we were lost, he was trying to pick me up! And that’s when I struck gold and said:

“I’m sorry, I’m married”

And with those four words he was so apologetic and drove off. I saw him again after he’d parked up and again he kept apologising for assuming I was single. The locals may be horny but they respect the sanctity of marriage a lot more than some nationalities. And so that’s now my cover and I have taken to wearing a Swarovski ring on my left hand, sparkly enough to ward off even the most persistent of men.

Although I’ve had it easier than some of my blonde colleagues. Especially the girl that walked down the Gulf Road alone and had phone numbers thrown out of car windows at her. It seems if you want a boyfriend then come to Kuwait. If you want a quiet life then pretend you’re married and avoid eye contact.

Clearing out the rubbish

I’ve decided it’s time to spring clean my iPhone. I’m not sure if it’s the new year, the move or the fact that having dropped the damn thing on a toilet floor when drunk and smashed it I’ve ordered shiny new one and I don’t want a phone book full of crap on it. So it’s time to clear out the rubbish.

And yes, I am talking about boys.

Ahhh the memories.

It starts well as I do actually know who the first one to bin is. I don’t know why he’s in my phone as ‘Andy No1′ though. Especially as I don’t have any other Andys in my phone. But I met him a few days before my 30th (day two of the four-day birthday weekender) and we did try to organise a date but then I got ill, so we rearranged and I went to Italy, so we rearranged and he got ill and then… nothing. Apart from a drunken text on his own birthday asking how I was. I replied, he didn’t. His loss. He probably had a girlfriend by then.

The next is Dave/Saul. I know why he has two names but never sure which one to call him by. He’s a friend of a friend. I snogged him at friend’s wedding. I haven’t seen any of that gang since!

Then we get to Eharmony Boy. Bless. Long term followers will remember Eharmony boy because he asked me out for dinner which never happened because he ran out of money after the first round so could only buy me a small wine. I took charge, bought a large and then legged it. He did ask me out again. I declined.

Magician! I was going to delete Magician ages ago but he pops up every so often to ask if he’s forgiven yet and I don’t reply. It’s nice to have the numbers of people who randomly text as then you don’t have to ask who they are and get in to a conversation. Anyway, the Magician is not forgiven for not recognising me after pestering me for a date for weeks. His excuse? “you were blonde when we met”. I have had dark brown hair for 29 of my 30 years. The blonde stint was 10 years before I met Magician.

‘Reef Fish – POF’ comes up next. Seeing as I drunkenly text him a few weeks ago this number certainly needs to be deleted. Remember I respected him enough to not blog about the excuse for going cold and cancelling all future dates? Well I don’t anymore. His excuse was that he was being made redundant and was going crazy over how he’d pay the mortgage so his head wasn’t in the right place for dating. So I graciously stepped back, said ‘if our paths cross again I’ll buy you a drink’ and left him to his drama. Six months later he is still driving around in his expensive company car. I know this because a friend of mine lives on his road. I have my spies everywhere.

Alex Revs – guessing I met this one in a Revolution bar then? I have been to three in my life so he could be anyone!

Charlie Stag. What a name! Although sadly that’s not his name. I met him on a stag do (NOT HIS OWN).

Dave Internet. Another foray in to online dating. This one cancelled the second date because he ‘met someone in real life’. Great, what an ego boost that was. Still by far the best first date I have had though so will let him off.

If anyone can shed some light on who the next one is I’d appreciate it. I have his first name AND surname. At least I think Tracey is his surname…

Twitter Boy is up next and could be one of three boys I’ve met up with from Twitter. Not romantically, just after a lot of pestering on their part. I got fed though so I’m not complaining!

The last number on the clear out has the name WANKERTWAT in my phone. So wave bye-bye to The Ex…

Now I feel clean and refreshed. Although, as I am out on Saturday night does anyone want to place bets on how many new random numbers I can collect?!

Running Away or Running in to The Sun?

This blog is nearly a year old and I am still single, still living alone and still crap at dating. I’m also not bothered in the slightest.

I started blogging a few years ago, when I had stuff in my head I needed to get out and my handwriting was too crap for a nice girlie journal (plus I was scared I’d die and my parents would find it whilst clearing my room out). That blog got shut down after someone who hacked my Twitter and Hotmail accounts decided it was funny to permanently delete two years worth of my inane witterings. That was January 2012 and led to the birth of Single in The Shires. The previous blog was entitled ‘The Last Single Girl’ as at the time I felt, at least in my social circle, that suddenly being single again after 7 years and rapidly approaching 30 I was indeed the last girl standing. I learnt, through Twitter and other blogs I follow that I wasn’t the last, and actually I was part of a much more fun gang now I was single. My problem wasn’t being single, it was living in an area full of smug marrieds who flocked there for the good schools and handy transport links in to London. After 18 months living there my neighbours still eye me with suspicion because I live alone, but they do say hello to me if I have male friends with me.

This is probably the part where I tell you what I have learnt from past dates (ie don’t wake up hungover with a stranger in your bed just because they bought you dinner) and how I am going to approach dating in 2013.

I’m not.

There is more to life than spending evenings making polite conversation with someone I have either met whilst out drinking (rose tinted glasses) or online (photoshopped profile picture). So I’m throwing in the towel, at least as far as the men of the UK are concerned.

One dream I gave up during my seven years with The Ex was to work abroad and to experience a different lifestyle and culture. Another sacrifice I made was the ability to travel so we could save for ‘our future’. Meeting a boy and settling down again is not sticking two fingers up to The Ex and nor is it going to give me back those years I lost being miserable. So boys and girls, I am leaving the UK and moving on to the biggest, scariest and most exciting chapter of my life so far. I have accepted a job in the Middle East and the lifestyle changes that come with it. No more drunken antics in seedy clubs where I am old enough to be the youngest occupant’s mother (or at least it seems), no more wasting Sundays under a duvet on the sofa having embarrassing flashbacks and no more social pressure to get a boyfriend. In a culture where an unmarried couple are discouraged from being alone together I no longer have to feel like a social leper for not serial dating in a hunt to find ‘The One’. I can concentrate on me, making new friends and giving my career a long awaited kick up the backside. The tax free salary also means exploring the world will take up my free time rather than staring at a mobile willing it to beep.

Fear not though, Single in the Shires is just becoming Single in the Sandpit and I’m sure I’ll find all sorts of things to blog about with all the cultural differences. I’ve only spent two days out there previously and in that time I was asked out once and propositioned for sex in a shopping mall.

For those that don’t really care about the relationships and dating side of things anyway, and just dip in and out of this blog when bored, I will be blogging about the wider move and all that it entails. Mainly because it saves me telling my friends and family everything several times, so we’ll keep this one for covert stuff and the other for mum-friendly posts. Deal?

The new blog, should you be at all interested is: http://runningin2thesun.wordpress.com/