Is it me? Guess it must be!
Posted 9 February 2008on:
Some Bon Jovi, although this song doesn’t really fit in with this post as well as the one below; I just happen to like it even though it makes me cry.
Tomorrow night is the engagement party… woooooo hoooooo. Of course I’m worried that there won’t be enough food and that everyone has a really great time… which means I haven’t lost an ounce this week because what do I do when I worry? Yes, I stuff my fat face!
We’re taking over a restaurant in North London and there’s about 200 guests. It will be a champagne reception and a hot roving reception with a mezze buffet and later a dessert buffet… I shall report back after the event.
The book club meeting came and went and this gruesome, horrific, ghastly book lent itself to much deep discussion. It certainly had a profound affect on me and I think I was one of the few who didn’t have the stomach to finish it. The writing was brilliantly executed (excuse the pun) but the subject matter was not for the fainthearted. It seems that the book was highly recommended to mothers by their single childless daughters who thought it was absolutely amazing, but obviously their mothers viewed it differently, albeit still appreciating the writing. For the majority it is compulsive reading, but I’m a wimp and cried off half-way.
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry at this internet dating lark. Not one man has actually rang me themselves, although I have spoken to several because they give me their numbers and ask me to call them. Things are so different today. I giggle at some of their questions, not because they are funny but because, in truth they make me nervous and uncomfortable. There is a general assumption that because I am divorced my husband was not GIB and that I’m gagging for it! Or, if I’m not is there something wrong with my libido? It kinda puts them off their stroke when I say that was never the problem, so they change tack and assume I must be one hot lady and they then try to establish how long it’s actually been since I you know what and how many men I’ve been with since ‘D’ day, oh and how many men have contacted me since I joined this hateful thing.
One gentleman, Mr X, no that’s the wrong word, he was no gentleman, wanted to know about my beauty regime, like did I have manicures and pedicures, oh and were my nails bright red or white tipped, did I have facials and treatments? Naively I started to answer him then stopped myself and asked him most politely what difference did it make, does it change the person I am? Things are so different today. My ex never saw me plucking and buffing and waxing and whatever… I always thought men only had to appreciate the finished product and not the mysteries of the bathroom.
Mr Y (to spare his blushes) wanted to know what my legs were like. He told me he was a leg man… was he talking about the part of the chicken he eats? I told him I had two of them that got me from A to B very nicely. I did do the tit for tat exercise on him when he was trying to guess my cup size from the pic on my profile, only in as much as I asked him how he would feel if women asked him his size. I won’t tell you his response because I managed to stop him before he told me! I told him it doesn’t bother me if a man is tall, short, thin, fat, bald, grey or has a full head of hair, it’s the person inside. Does this mean he would never have contacted me if it was just my face on display and not my boobs too, since it was an upperbody shot. He said I should send him a full length pic so he can see my legs… yeah right on!
Mr Z was hung up on the fact I am seven years older and said that the difference bothered him and he could never marry anyone older, but we could still go out and have ‘cuddles’ afterwards! How sweet and thoughtful and so considerate!
And… they’re all a little too interested in my settlement and where I live.
A girlfrend of mine, the one who introduced me to this internet introduction thingy, has met a very very nice man who has taken her out to dine very very nicely and to the theatre and he lives miles away from her yet being the gentleman he is insists on picking her up… and he met her family! They are getting on so well I invited her to bring him to the party tomorrow night.
I told her about the probing and leading questions and she can’t believe it; she also can’t believe why I don’t just slam the phone down on them, but I think deep down I keep hoping that out of all this there may be a meeting of minds. Actually the one I believed had the potential to be a match of minds was the one who was in Israel who said he would contact me when he got home. He hasn’t! I have actually told them that if they’re looking for gorgeous and glamorous then I am not the match for them.
Then there’s the one who got me to call him while he was away from home on business. He’s home now. Should I ask him if he is playing truth or dare? The truth being that I was merely an amusing diversion whilst he was holed up in a hotel alone for a while; the dare being… dare he meet me? I don’t think so! I know the truth even though it hurts.
This sure does nothing for one’s self-esteem, so exactly what is it about me that attracts these pervs? That’s a rhetorical question… do NOT answer! 😥