Don't hate the player hate the game

Post break up with Paul, it was fair to say I made up for lost time. I tried to do this in the most sophisticated and ladylike way of course...this is possible.

First I think there was a medical student who asked if he could practice taking blood from me on our second date. Was he being serious or was this some kind of s+m practice I wasn't aware of? I knew that the bottle of bolli on the 1st date was a decoy.

Then there was big Tom - big because he was tall, not because of his manhood.. so I was told. Tom had a charm about him that reminded me of Hugh Grant - very southern, very polo, very much wanted by quite a lot of other girls. Tom was a player, and that was fine by me - his girlfriend wasn't so keen on this though. ouch. He was obviously quite keen to cross the line for a good few years then got caught out. A message on facebook arrived in my inbox before xmas. 16 other girls, including his girlfriend, were cc'd in as well:

"sorry"

"As some of you may know I have been unfaithful to my girlfriend Tess for some time now. I have hurt and upset her, and I just want her to know how sorry I am."

Oh Tom! I did feel bad for him, but the only response I had was the timeless "don't hate the player hate the game"

At the same time as liasons with Tom I had also been seeing elliott who was just lovely, but a bit too inexperienced with and I think I would have ended up being more like a mother figure too. I didn't realise that eliott and tom were on the same course at uni....and it was only at a rugby match that tom had invited me to, (an opportunity to see him in shorts couldn't go a miss) that I spotted eliott in the clubhouse. LUCKILY, Tom was on the pitch, so I didn't have to deal with the awkwardness of explaining myself to 2 guys, in fornt of each other.

Eliott was drunk - " Anna did you come here to see me?! "
me - "babe of course I came here to see you, some of the girls are watching the lads outside but I saw u and thought I'd come and say hi -I see you're having such a good time with the lads, I'm gona have a little look at the score outside then we'll catch up later in the week."

I didn't give him a chance to reply, quick kiss on the cheek, pinch of the bum and scootle outside to find some females I could pretend were my friends. (thinking back, hope none of them were Toms gf Tess and I had mentioned anything, that would have been awkward!)

Had a good oggle at Tom in shorts, quick message to him "seeing you in shorts was all too much for me so had to go home and have an early bath... ;)"

As gordon ramsey would say...salt, pepper done.

tom, eliott, done.

Why the long face?

Good people get cheated, just as good horses get ridden - Chinese Proverb -

Horse and I met on the drive into 6th form college at school. He tried to burn me off in his car at the traffic lights. I was easily impressed, and new to flirting through the means of motors. (as a consequence, I still do enjoy a little light flirting whilst stuck in work traffic...window shopping, almost quite literally, of course).

We were both still students at the single sex schools, however we now had free periods which were spent in either/ors common rooms, and often had mixed lessons if the classes were small enough. Through these means and mutual friends we took our flirting at the lights to flirting over texts (I became more technologically advanced in 6th form you will be pleased to know, even if it was through a nokia 5110) and eventually became quite a serious item. Unfortunately back then you had to assume, and have the awkward chat if you were actually "girlfriend and boyfriend" - facebook was not readily available to announce your relationship status to yourself and the world.

We were together and pretty much inseparable for about three and a half years; we holidayed together, we celebrated 18ths together, we studied together, we went to the same uni together. It was probably at the end of my freshers week in my first year at uni, that I started to think of things a bit more:

1)I had woken up every day of freshers week in my own bed

2)I had woken up every day of freshers week in my own bed, with my own boyfriend

3)I had woken up every day of freshers week, in my own bed, with my own boyfriend, and not been hungover.

Now, I am not saying that this is a bad thing at all, and I am not encouraging everyone that goes to uni to act in any kind of irresponsive manner, but there were a few niggling things that were going on between us and with the above realisation, something needed to be done; I guess now looking back we were both growing up in our own different ways and wanted different things. I was also really fed up of sharing him with his mother - this has since made me vet any future boyfriends to see if they are mummy's boys. He also had really shit shoes. and was too tall. and lanky. and did look a bit like a horse.

I think I made a half hearted attempt at making it work again and again, and I believe that looking back now, his attempt was half hearted too. Our relationship had become very "easy", and when I wanted a bit of security after a mad night out, or just bored and needed attention, I knew that I could quite easily get into his halls and spend the rest of the night with him.

My get out of jail and go card was my overseas placements with uni. It "worked" for a few weeks, then slowly fizzled out. I was on to pastures new. Unfortunately neither of us never changed mobile numbers, and there were several back on, back off moments over the years. It was probably only until about 3 months ago, that I deleted his number.

As much as I knew and know now, that I could never have anything with him again, as so much has gone on over the years, there had until recently, always been something deep inside of me that wondered what if?

So there I was single for the next few years at uni - fun i had, friends i made, men, or rather boys, i met, regrets i laugh at, but if there was one thing I did learn it was to never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear or a fool from any direction.

My first experience with Northwood boys - This should have been a lesson to me that they are all knob heads

At the tender age of 15, I met a boy at the joint school disco (I was educated from the age of 5 at a single sex girls school, Northwood girls, you'd think that would turn me, but we quickly learnt how to sneak out to the boys school down the road...).
We danced, stiff arms on each others shoulders, we snogged non stop like it was supposed to be a world record, we exchanged numbers (landline I must admit, there was no flirty texts back in the day). I was in L.O.V.E....
After countless love letter exchanges from the boys on the bus, we had arranged to go out on a date to see the Truman Show at the ABC cinemas in my local town. Thinking back now, getting a little bit of torn paper with scribbled writing was so much more exciting than an email or text.
Anyway I can remember being a nervous wreck and getting my dad to drop me off around the corner so he didn't spy on me.
I waited and waited but there was no sign.

I waited longer, about 25 minutes, wakling around the little green at the front of the cinema so as not to look like I had been stood up, but that sinking feeling was now firm in my mind....I had been stood up. Oh I was heartbroken - more so that I had to find a payphone and ring my dad to come and pick me up. I cried all the way home and vowed never to date Northwood boys again. I couldn't even send a rude message to tell him where to stick it. The jerk.

Needless to say no more love letters were exchanged, and I doubted that I would EVER be able to go on a date again in fear that I would be stood up.

I did however end up dating said Northwood boys again...

to be continued

bloggers block

I've been away, and thoroughly enjoyed my break, all the time thinking, oh I must blog about that when I get back...and now I have total bloggers block! It's quite hard to get back into, and I resolved to the fact that it is a bit mean to constantly go on about cow face in the office, especially if you don't know her and can empathise with my rants.

Highlights of the holiday anyway were:
The Cirque Beatles Love show. OH MY GOD, seriously breathtaking.

My stock up of bikinis from Victorias Secret (why by the way do victorias secret practically stop at a D cup except for boring bras? what about all the people in LA who have had implants? (Mine are real thanks))

Seeing Joan Rivers

Newport Beach - I WANT to live there!

OH! and my birthday win on the Roulette tables, how could I forget that!!!

Tomorrow is St Georges Day here in the UK, and although I am much more thrilled to be out celebrating paddys day (despite being British) I'm going to make some st georges day cupcakes then drink cider in a beer garden post 4pm!!