Dating

So I know this wasn't supposed to be a dating blog but I have to talk about this- I'm suddenly popular with men!

My relationship history before a few weeks ago was tragic. I'd had boyfriends in school and the occasional drunken snog since but that's been pretty much it, apart from a long-term flirtation with a guy I've known since we were kids that's just going nowhere.

But now I actually have choices.

Remember The Date? Well he's one of the choices. We've actually been on another date since then. It started out as a coffee but we ended up at the cinema again. I think he just really wanted to see Twilight Saga: Eclipse to be honest but so did I so it worked out well. plus he paid. Anyway he now wants me to stay over at his but "nothing has to happen". Hmmm... the problem is The Flirt knows him and he's told me some kinda bad stuff about. I don't know whether he's telling the truth or if he's just jealous.

The other choice is a guy I met on Saturday when i was out round town for my sister-in-law's 21st. He asked for my number when I was buying a pizza whilst trashed. He texted me the very next day and we've been talking ever since. He seems kinda nice and he's invited me out for a meal on Thursday night. We've actually talked about quite a lot, not just randomly chatted. We've discussed jobs, pets, coffee shops, cookies... lol. We agreed that Millies Cookies are delicious. So yeah we seem to have stuff in common and we have a laugh.

There's just 2 flies in the ointment
1. He's 29 and I'm 20 (minor difference I know but it still feels weird)
and 2. He said I looked really sexy on Saturday night. In my white dress.

I was wearing a black top and a pale pink skirt with black cats on on Saturday.

Yeah, I'm a little worried now. But I guess I'll just have to see what happens on Thursday. Assuming he still wants to meet up.

I'm back!

I know I kind of disappeared for a while but I've been kind of busy and I'm back now :)

OK, so, news. Today I got another tattoo. This one's on the back of my neck and it's a sun and moon mixed thing that the guy at the tattoo parlour designed especially for me from my basic idea. I feel so privileged! It's more symbolic than an actual picture, a point emphasised by my brother when he reacted by saying, "what is it?". The idea is that it symbolises my paganism i.e. the fact that my goddess and god are represented by the sun and moon.

Yes, I'm strange. No, I don't care.

I go on holiday next weekend. To my favourite place ever- Whitby. I seriously can't wait! I thoroughly intend to just relax for a week. I'm gonna go for a ride (hopefully on the beach), spend time with my adorable nieces and walk 2 miles a night into the bay and back with the dog. I did that the last time I went and lost nearly 2 dress sizes! I'm gonna practice photography and writing too. But I'm not taking my laptop. I fancy some solitude.

And then after Whitby I go to Paris, Monday 'til Friday. I'm looking forward to it but kind of nervous. I don't go abroad. But I'm sure it'll be fine and I'll have a really good time. I hope.

Well I've bought some new music for my Ipod so I just have to buy some new books. I'm thinking The lord of the rings...

Money- what's it good for?

Why is money so important?

I mean seriously- our lives revolve around it. We study and train and take exams so that we can earn lots of the stuff, then we get a job which for the vast majority of people is NOT what they dreamed of doing as a kid, then we work our butts off to keep earning the stuff while also planning ways of how to make more. Then we spend it and begin the cycle of earning and spending all over again.

Does this make sense? 'Cos it doesn't to me!

Ok so money means we can survive. How did that happen? It makes life more enjoyable, yes, but we're totally and utterly dependant on it. We need it to buy food, heat and water, the basic necessities of life.

Now, I love shopping. We know this. And as much as i'm all for environmental protection and nature and everything i honestly can't imagine living without money. And i'm not rich. I don't own designer clothes and a huge house. Hell I don't even have my own house! I live with my father. Because among other reasons, it just costs so much money.

Whereas living here I don't pay the bills, the council tax or the mortgage. Yes, i'm spoiled. But I do do the chores and stuff. And I pay for everything for my pets (an average bill running to £100 a month).

But again it's all dependent on money.

And money cannot make us happy.

I have a job that, lets face it, i'm beginning to really dislike. It's nothing to do with what I trained for/ still training for, the students are mostly vile to me and i'm much more suited to receiving education than providing it. I want to study. I want to write. But I daren't sacrifice the regular wage packet for the uncertainty of freelance journalist work or possible bar work while I study.

So I have the money to spend, mostly on whatever I want, but i'm not doing what I want and what i've spent 4 years training for so far.

And, basically, i'm not really happy.

Duh...!

I can safely say that it is true that women are great at multitasking. As I type i'm cooking salmon and fresh veg. I am a domestic goddess! not.

Speaking of food....

When I left work earlier I went shopping for a nice, sophisticated, short black dress. The search for said dress left me feeling short, fat and seriously unsexy.

So what did I do? Accept the fact that I am short and dumpy and buy myself something pretty and comfy? Decide once and for all that I was going to join the gym and lose weight?

no.

I bought myself a Mcdonalds to cheer me up.

Yes I bought an example of the epitome of unhealthy food. But at least it tasted nice.

I think I missed the main point of WHY I was fed up. Or maybe I was just conveniently forgetting it.

Whatever the reason I now feel even fatter and more unsexy than ever and I don't even have a dress.

If I don't find one soon i'm going to have to wear a black bin bag with those stilettos.

The return of The Date and his immediate dismissal

I am forced to conclude that many (not all) men are presumptuous gits.

Remember I said that The Date hadn't contacted me at all since Saturday? well yesterday I was shocked and annoyed to receive a text from him at 2.30am asking, of all things, if he could come to mine later on in the day! Ok so I didn't actually get the message until about 10 when I got up but it could've woken me, which is just rude.

And let's face it, he didn't want to come to mine for a cuppa and a chat. Git.

Because I was annoyed I sent 'can't i'm busy. sorry' which lead to him asking if he'd upset me. Despite wanting to reply sarcastically with 'Oh no I just love it when guys don't reply and then want to come round and get their leg over a week later!' I resisted the urge and instead merely said 'i'm just really busy right now'. In an apparent attempt to appear gentlemanly he proceeding to offer his assistance with anything should I need it. My retort was a curt 'thanks'.

After that I assumed all correspondance was at an end for the forseeable future so was therefore, understandably, shocked to receive a message a few hours later with the phrase 'can't wait to see you again'. He is apparently under the misapprehansion that he will, indeed, see me again.

I think not.

Dracula to corsets

So... i'm reading Dracula again. Bloody good book- well written, nice format with the journal entries and letters. But it's quite possible that it reaches my top 10 because it's part set in my favourite place in the world. Whitby. The little seaside town that stole my heart years ago. The place, along with Robin Hoods Bay just down the coast, which is the only place I feel totally content. And when I read this book it's almost like i'm there. I can visualise the streets, The Cresent, the graveyard at St Mary's and, of course, the Abbey.

It is truly amazing (to me at least) when you first see the Abbey as you enter the town. It makes me feel like i'm finally home. I will eventually move there. when I can afford it. I already chose my house.

Here I think I must confess- I go to Whitby Goth Weekend every year and have dressed up for 3 years now. And it's bloody fantastic!

Goth's seem to have a bad rep which is totally unfounded. Apart from the usual idiotic kids who just want the label and screw it up for everyone else. But honestly, everyone is just so nice! People that you've never met before in your life will smile at you and say how great you look.

And the clothes! I can safely say that there are several fortunes worth of outfit wandering around that town twice a year. I unfortunately don't have the budget for the clothes i'd like (although I seriously recommend Moonmaiden Gothic Clothing an online seller who handmakes everything for a really good price) but my outfit was still worth about £100 and mine was kind of plain!

But I think this year i'll spend a bit of my hard-earned cash on at least a new corset.

Even if i'm only a part-time goth.

All is not well in the land of Nik or first date boredom

I'm fed up. Really fed up and I do not have the energy to give a stuff about much.
I blame the non-event that was my first ever real date. Real as in organised as such. Well I think it was a date but i'm a little hazy on the fact now.

Anyway, details-
It took days to actually come to a decision about what to do! I suggested going for a drink because, you know, everyone seems to do that for a first date. He said yeah which I figured was a good sign but we then didn't actually make a decision as to where and when. I'll play it cool I thought, so play it cool I did. He finally got back to me on Thursday and yet again we still didn't arrange a time and place. He said he'd let me know on saturday.

Saturday came and I sent him a text asking what the plan was. He did actually reply and asked if we could meet up in the afternoon instead of evening. I agreed thinking we could go for a coffee and immediately began fretting about my outfit because i'd chosen one for evening.

A few hours later I got a text asking if I wanted to go to the cinema instead. I thought 'ooooh we're getting more like a date now' so I, obviously, agreed and we chose street dance 3D (by the way that film's great).

We met at the cinema half an hour before the film started and, happily, The Date bought my ticket. 'Not bad' I thought. Then he saw some lasses he knew from school and proceeded to talk to them for about 15 minutes. I think at this point I should point out that my date was 18 which makes me feel like a cradle snatcher when actually it's only two years difference. From the conversation I was forced to listen to awkwardly in silence I began to formulate the opinion that The Date was indeed juvenile. 'Shit' I thought. This better be good.

We proceeded into the cinema.

The date is even more opinionated than me. At least when I give my opinion I talk at a respectable volume and allow others their own opinion. The Date is loud. He complained about the 3D glasses, made me feel vaguely guilty for picking this film to go to though I don't think he actually meant to and laughed rather loudly at jokes he made that were not,in fact, that funny. 'Still', I thought, 'at least he's not moody'.

The film began. The film in fact is great. I was rather amused and, I confess, felt quite optimistic when, as a lass in a nightshirt danced for her boyfriend, The Date said,'I'm not looking I promise'. 'Hmmm looks like it is a proper date...' I thought. A feeling accentuated when he later held my hand.

As has happened every time i've been to the cinema with a guy the hand wandered towards the thigh but I was enjoying the film so felt no need to remove it. After all, it was only the thigh.

I confess that the two times he excused himself to the loo I wasn't exactly bereft at his departure. Surely a bad sign. But we were laughing together at the film and the hand-holding continued so I was pretty happy.

The film finished and, unlike when I go with friends, we left immediately. There was no more hand-holding. The Date offered me a lift which was helpful as I can't actually drive and we chatted a bit in the car. By 'chatting' I mean that he talked and I occasionally commented.

As he pulled up outside my house I said thanks and sort of paused to see if i'd get a snog. I got a kiss of the kind that a child gives. A peck. No tongues and, basically, no emotion.

That's when I felt bereft.

I went in and recieved more attention from my dogs in 2 minutes than I did from The Date all afternoon. I was home by 6 for gods sake!

On Sunday morning I sent him a text saying i'd had a good time and thanks. It is now Tuesday and I have heard absoulutely nothing from him.

Something tells me he's just not interested.

I am therefore incredibly annoyed, suffering from a lack in confidence and am now imagining becoming a sad, lonely spinster with only dogs for company. I wouldn't mind if I could just be a 'career woman' but as the journalism hasn't even passed go, let alone collected £250 I think that's unlikely don't you?

Spinster life awaits.