Sunday, April 24, 2011


I log into Facebook and there it is; a message from Him. Same as always, he’s back (I don’t really know where he goes) and he wants my number (I changed it after I decided I didn’t want to be Mrs Crazy anymore) let me take it back…

I met him a couple of years ago. It was a time when I was single and seemed to be out quite a lot. As you do when you’re a constant on the clubbing scene, I started to see the same faces quite often. I can’t even remember how we met, but we did and we seemed to be inseparable from that moment. Well I say inseparable but actually I didn’t really see him during the day. We were more a nocturnal couple, always out together in the evening never really during the day.

Our first date was so normal. He came to pick me up, took me to Nobu for dinner, then to a friend’s wedding reception then to a club. It was a really nice first date. Things just went downhill after that. You know when you go out and you see that one couple in the club, causing a scene, screaming and shouting making fools of themselves? Yup, that was us. That’s what we did on nearly every single outing. But it seemed normal at the time, it appeared to be the dynamic of this ‘relationship’ we had.

Our arguing seemed to steadily get worse, what started out as little disagreements turned in to full blown melodramatic shouting. Then the beginning of the actual crazy behaviour began…. One night while we were out we both started shouting at each other. I don’t even know what about, I’m not sure we ever really knew what we were arguing about half the time. I tell him I going home as I don’t want to be around him anymore and I go to leave. So I exit the club and call a cab. Whilst waiting, he comes outside to tell me I should go back to his house like originally planned, though this time I didn’t even want to be in the same country as him let alone in the same room. So I told him no. Then he asked me how I was going to pay for the cab as I didn’t have any money on me. (I never needed money when I was out with him as he always paid for everything. So he always assumed I didn’t have any on me) However, my mother taught me better than that! She always told me to carry money just in case the person you’re with turns crazy and you need to get home. Thanks mum! So I tell him to leave me alone and I’ll be fine. I shit you not, the next thing I know he’s grabbed my bag and made a run for it! For a split second I contemplated running after him, but I hate running plus I was wearing heels so it was a double no no. I would have gone straight home only my bag had my house keys and phone in it. The cab arrives and like something from a movie I tell him to ‘follow that man, yes the man running away from us…’ it was a slow motion car chase, the cab gets to his car, we sit and wait for him to get in and then follow him to his house. At the time he lived in a gated community type thing so you had to have a code to get in. His car goes in and then the gates shut. I had no doubt he would pay for the cab but obviously he’s angry at me. So I jump out and climb over the pedestrian gate. Correct... in my tight dress and heels. Once over the other side I take off my heels and run after him. Then I hear someone shouting, I turn around to see the cab driver hanging off the gate trying to come after me. Conclusion we have to help the cab driver down, he pays him and adds a huge tip as the diver ripped his coat trying to get over the gate, we spend the rest of the night into the morning arguing and then he drops me home.

This was now a new feature for us; we had taken these arguments to the next level. I must stress that it never got physical; he never laid a finger on me, he actually treated me like a princess (when we were not acting like silly crazy people) I think that’s why I stuck in there, because when everything was calm it was almost perfect. Almost. But for a couple of months we continued like this, perfect moments then crazy flashes. Until one day I cracked, I couldn’t handle it anymore.
It was on another night out, the same thing happened as always, though this time a group of us went back to his house for an after party which meant there were people to distract us from arguing. Something was different about this time; it felt strange to be there. So I excused myself and went and sat in the bathroom and realised that I wasn’t happy. This was my epiphany moment; this was not a healthy relationship. I made the decision that I didn’t want to do this anymore and I needed to go home right that second. So I start to collect my things and say I’m leaving. He just looks at me and says ok. Er NO. Nothing with him was ever that simple. I check my bag and he’s taken everything out. That’s was it, I went LOCO. One thing I cannot stand is feeling trapped. I want to always know that I can leave at any moment and as soon as I don’t feel that way I start to panic. I didn’t want him to know I was panicked, so I just became calm an eerie type of calm. He clearly thought I was going to stay, so went to the living room to join his friends. Anyway, so crazy me starts searching around the flat, all I need is my phone and his car keys. I knew he wasn’t clever enough to keep my phone on him and I was right. It took me a while to find it though so I decided to block his toilet with tissues paper to keep myself amused, random I know but it made me feel better. I got his car keys and a garbage bag. I started to fill the garbage bag with some of his stuff then left the flat. I went down to the car, drove it to the other side of the car park, put his stuff in the boot, took money from the car and called a cab to take me home. My phone starts to ring and I just ignore it for a while then answer. He wants to know where I am and where his car is. I tell him his car is gone along with his stuff and that’s what he deserves for taking my things. He threatens to call the police but really I haven’t done anything illegal so I’m not worried. I didn’t steal his car... I just moved it to a different parking space. He found his car and his stuff, eventually.

You may be reading this and be thinking that’s not crazy behaviour but it is for me. Starting arguments in public, running around the streets screaming, crying, climbing over gates, pretending I’ve stolen someone’s car… THAT IS NOT HOW MY MOTHER RAISED ME. Being crazy is not ladylike at all, it’s all very time consuming and exhausting. He kept calling even though I had told him it was over but to be fair I had said it so many times before and not meant it. Or maybe I had meant it but we always ended up back together. I tried to get his number blocked but apparently you can’t do that unless you file a police report. But like I said it never got nasty between us, just a silly type of crazy. So I changed my number instead, I needed to be completely cut off from him.

The only way I can describe this ‘relationship’ we had was passionate. We passionately liked each otheruntil the arguments started. Then we passionately hated and despised each other. I’ve never experienced anything like it in my life. Someone who can wind me up to the point where something clicks in my brain and I lose all common sense and start acting crazy. And it wasn’t even about the alcohol as neither of us drank very much when we went out. I guess some couples, no matter how much they care or love each other, are just not meant to be together.

P.s Hell to the NO, I will not be giving him my number!

Sunday, April 17, 2011

It's me or the dog

I met Mr Scottish (last year) on a dating website (yes I shall explain how I came to be on one of those a bit later). For anyone that has even been on a dating website you’ll know that you have to almost become some kind of online predator. The whole concept of online dating requires you to be actively involved, which makes sense as the point of it is to meet people, anyway like I said more about that another time.

So there I am one day, having a little perusal of the men that I'm supposedly ‘matched’ with and then his face pops up. His opening statement was ‘What a nightmare’ it made me laugh so I clicked on his profile. It made me laugh because it is a bloody nightmare singing up to these things as they ask you so many questions. Obviously name, age etc. This is standard, so I don’t mind those. But all these questions about favourite movies, favourite books, what are your hobbies, what is your best asset, when is the last time you had a bowl movement. It’s just all too much. I know it’s because they’re trying to ‘match’ you with someone but still… nightmare. Anyway, I think I messaged him first and we eventually exchanged numbers. Our first date consisted of meeting at a pub for pre-drinks, then an amazing Arabic restaurant. He was tall, handsome, and intelligent and could make me laugh. Perfect! The date went really well so the next day we arranged to go to the cinema, after that things were pretty much smooth sailing… or so I thought.

Before we managed to meet in person Mr Scottish told me he has a dog (Silky) a black Labrador. He’d shown me pictures however; I was not aware how big this dog was. Silky, in my opinion, is not a dog, he is a pony. He’s huge; you could saddle him up and race him at Ascot. Ok so I think we’ve established that I’m not too keen on dogs. I like the small ones but I’m generally scared of the bigger ones, saying that, I do prefer dogs to cats any day. I honestly believe that all cats are assassins reincarnated. At least with dogs you know where they are, as soon as you open the door they’ll come running. A cat is like a lodger in your house, an assassin lodger that costs you money for no reason. They come and go as they please; you never know where they are. Call for your cat and see what happens. Nada. You’ll be walking around your own house wondering if the cat is in and I bet you’ll find it in the kitchen circling your kitchen knives. (Assassins I tell you!!)

At first Silky and I did not get along. I repeat, NO. We were like two kids vying for the attention of Mr Scottish. He’d jump up on the couch and squeeze between us, I was scared to actually sleep as I thought Silky would try and kill me. I’m so serious. I’d just see him at night staring at me, not even blinking… Anyway, everything was about the dam dog! We had to go home at this time to feed the dog. The dog needs to be walked at that time. If we go to that place we have to be back because of the fricking dog! The dog needs this; the dog needs that, blah blah blah! And don’t even get me started on having dog hairs on my clothes! But what was I going to do? Silky had been around years before me. Could I just waltz in and demand he get rid of him? Trust me I considered it many a time. But anyone who’s ever had a pet knows that this animal becomes more like a family member and I can appreciate that. However, I think that when you start seeing someone you need that honeymoon period to just get to know each other and enjoy each other’s company. It is so annoying to have to consider a third party. It was like his baby, but I didnt like dogs! I LOVE Kids, now that’s another story…

Then something just clicked, it all just seemed to fall into place. I started to look forward to seeing Silky, to have him jump on me when I arrive and sniff my feet! I didn’t mind taking him for walks anymore, I really enjoyed it. Instead of him trying to push me off the couch, he’d come and cuddle me. It just all worked and made sense. We were like a mini family. He was now like our baby. I loved it. He was a bit of a grumpy bum sometimes but I could deal with it. He made me feel wonderful. I was so happy… until Mr Scottish went AWOL. He disappeared on me; to be fair he was going through a rough time with work and needed to clear his head. So I gave him the space he needed, but sadly I don’t think that was enough. So now I needed to know what was going on. Things were in limbo. He wasn’t answering my calls or texts, or bbms, though he did keep ‘checking in’ on facebook (exactly)So I knew he was still alive. The only thing left was to email. Finally I got a reply. Long story short I GOT DUMPED. Via EMAIL!! Yes I am being totally serious, he ended it all, everything was over. I was completely devastated.

At one point I wanted Mr Scottish to pick me or the dog, but I chose them both as they both made me happy. I just wish he chose me back…

Monday, April 11, 2011

Is it so hard to press reply?!

I rolled in to work feeling like death on the Friday. About 1o’clock I sent the email to Scott. Now… it’s not that I expected him to reply straight away, I mean he does own his own business. (Yes indeed I did Google him.) That’s what you get for giving people your card! It’s all quite impressive; he’s MD to his own PR and marketing consultancy, currently writing a book and apparently founded some sort of awards thingy. So all in all he has a lot on his plate. Nevertheless I still expect some form of acknowledgment but its early days. I tend to give these things at least 24 hours before I lose all hope.

Having spent the entire tube journey into work rocking back and forth like a recovering drug addict, wondering if I was actually going to projectile vomit or not, I endured the rest of the day attempting to nurse my hangover whilst working. (Not a good look) The worst thing was that I had a work outing to attend and the though of even stepping into another bar sent me running into the ladies loo, gagging reflexes on full throttle. But the hair of the dog and all that jazz!

Having stayed later than I originally intended and therefore drunk more than my body would have liked, I headed into central with three work colleagues to meet friends. Where did we end up? Yup, you guessed it!

So there I am, second night on the trot in Zebranos, heading straight to the bar (naturally) and who do I see... Well to be fair it’s a bit hard to not see Scott. I’ve come to the conclusion that he must be part giant due to the fact that he is just so ridiculously tall! For some reason I panic and crouch, thinking that if I’m low enough he’ll be unable to see me. As ludicrous as it sounds, it all made sense at the time. Next thing I know, I feel a tap on the shoulder. I freeze, mid crouch, turn around and see his knee caps (he really is that tall). I stand up and smile, hoping he doesn’t ask why I was walking through the crowd trying to imitate a cat burglar. He takes me over to the corner and starts making idle chit chat. Er HELLO. I’m too impatient for this kind of nonsense, so I interrupt him mid flow. ‘I sent you an email’ I blurt a bit louder than I intended... Pause.

Long story short, he saw the email but had been too busy to reply. Ok fine, I can deal with that. Though just because that’s what he said it doesn’t mean I don’t still expect a reply. He also says he’s going to another bar and wants me to come with him. (Surely that’s a good sign?) So I tell him that I’m waiting for my friend and depending on how things go we may come. (That was me trying to act cool) Again with the forehead kiss and he leaves. As soon as I saw Louise I practically rugby tackled her to the ground to update her on what Scott said. Next thing I know Patrick (bar man) appears and reveals that he saw the email I wrote Scott. Erm ok. So he had time to show Patrick the email but didn’t have time to send me any form of a response. Right...

Irrespective, we head to the second bar. This is my last glimmer of hope in regards to some progression in this scenario. He sees us, calls us over, one last forehead kiss and then he disappears. Louise and I spend the whole night with his friends who then start asking me where he is! Finally, one of his friends said he already left. No goodbye. No email reply. Nada…

On reflection I have to wonder why. Why did he say he’d take me out on a date? Why did he give me his card? Why did he come and speak to me when he saw me? Especially as it was obvious I was trying to avoid him. Why ask me to come to the other bar if he was just going to leave? Why did he not reply to the email? It’s this kind of Baloney from men that I cannot stand. If you don’t mean it don’t say it. Simplez! I guess we’ll never know. Unless I see him again and then trust me it’s on like donkey kong because I’m sick of not knowing. Is it so hard to press reply? Apparently for some people it is!

On a brighter note, I did have the most interesting conversation with Mr Scottish…

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Is Thursday the new Friday?

So apparently Thursday is the new Friday which is what my friends have been constantly telling me over and over again. After an age of declining their offers, I was finally cajoled into heading out last night after work to enjoy a few belated birthday drinks. Excitedly, my friends informed me that as I love cocktails so much they were going to take me to this great bar called Zebranos. (If you haven’t been you’re missing out!) 

We arrive at Zebranos and the drinking ensues. Whilst ordering a round, my friend (Louise) tells me that she fancies the bar man (Patrick). So I basically befriend Patrick as Louise was too shy to talk to him. To sum up that whole situation, well let's just say they got on well that night!

Moving swiftly on, later that evening I notice this really tall gorgeous guy and I think to myself 'I have to get to talk to him'. But alas, how do I this? I need a plan. So, I start to visually stalk tall gorgeous man and low and behold, my new friend Patrick knows him. Bingo! I convince Patrick that I need him to introduce me to tall gorgeous man and he complied accordingly.

It turns out that tall gorgeous man is called Scott and was even more gorgeous up close! He was also very chivalrous and entertained my garrulous nature for quite some time. On asking if he wanted to dance, Scott claimed he, unfortunately, couldn't dance until after midnight.(?!) I never managed to quite ascertain why this was! But he did say that he would take me out on a date. Yay! I get over excited and run, like a child who has just seen an ice cream van, to my bag to get out my phone. However, instead of exchanging numbers and or bb pins, he gives me his card and told me to email him! Cue awkward moment where I’m just standing there with my phone in one hand and his card in the other. I smile, nod and hold onto the card like it was my lifeline. Whether he could sense my confusion I'm not certain, nevertheless stepping towards me, he gently pulls me in closer and kisses my forehead. Sweet or patronising? I’m still not quite sure!!

So I must conclude the following;
- Thursday is NOT the new Friday. Because if it were, I would not have had to wake up at the crack of ridiculousness the next morning to get to work after drinking copious amounts the night before having had roughly about 2.1minutes sleep. To say I was hung over is an understatement!

- Will Scott keep his word and take me out on a date? Email has been sent sooooooooo... I guess I'll just have to wait and see!

Please note that all names have been changed to protect the innocent and or guilty people mentioned in this blog!