Travelling light!

'How do I see this developing? Will I emigrate?' asks an anonymous reader.

Well, I haven't put my house up for rent, or resigned from the day job just yet, although I was certainly tempted earlier this week after plumbing issues, a broken dishwasher and a particularly stressful day at work.

I suggested to LP that I could resign and take up new and gainful employment as his interior designer (he's renovating his property at the moment), social secretary (I'm particularly sociable, especially where champagne is involved) and, if he was really lucky, I might agree to mutually beneficial optional extras! He seemed quite keen on that idea and is drafting the job spec as I write!

In answer to the question - a resounding yes - because as, bizarre as it sounds, even a move to the other side of the world, in this case, would involve less baggage than I've encountered in a relationship in a very long time!

But decisions of that nature are not for now. All I need to know for the moment is that we are having a fantastic time and the reason we were attracted to each other in the first place is our respective understanding that the only limitations we have in life are those we place on ourselves. LP is, without doubt, an equal and if our liaison amounts to no more than a brief snapshot in life rather than numerous albums of memories then I won't regret a moment.

And as this is 100th blog post, I'm very glad I'm able to write about positive dates as opposed to disasterous ones for a change.

10 nights until Paris....

Movie Star?!

Well readers, incredibly, the lack of red flags continues to prevail. No, I can't believe it either but it's true. The weekend of discovery (and debauchery ;-)!) with The Pilot was everything we both hoped for....so much so that I have decided he is worthy of an even newer sobriquet. Going forward he shall be known as LP (short for The Lovely Pilot...because he is!)

 

A lovely lazy weekend in the middle of nowhere with an amusing Saturday morning spent chatting to two couples we met in a local coffee shop - one couple in particular were hilarious - married for 52 years and a double act that should have had their own TV show. They were enthralled by our manner of meeting and Alan (the husband of this amazing partnership) said he fancied trying Internet dating himself. I pointed out he may have to jettison his wife first, which she thought would be a marvellous idea; she'd already earmarked the shed in their new home for him anyway!

They were adamant that LP was a dead ringer for an erstwhile American matinee idol of the silver screen era who died young - Geoffrey Chandler (see photo - it's of GC, not LP, in case you were wondering), but there's definitely similarities...it's the dimples, wide mouth (and the nose)! And if Liz Jones - Columnist of the Year 2012 - has a Rock Star I like the idea of having my own Movie Star (even if only a lookalike)!

The only problem is that if he continues to inspire and excite me in the way that he does, then what on earth am I going to blog about....?

I'm sure I'll find something...after all, I'll need to amuse myself whilst LP is busy a few thousand miles away. He flys home tomorrow, so until we meet in Paris in two weeks time, I shall have to keep myself out of mischief somehow...
 

Butterflies!

So, almost time to see The Pilot again, and how am I dealing with this unexpectedly exciting twist in my erstwhile, tumultuous and difficult love life? Unexpectedly well, would be the answer...

My heart (caused by a particularly virulent strain of dancing butterflies) veers between excitement about what could potentially be happening and fear that I might have got it very wrong indeed...

However, there are a few things that I'm certain of:
-  this thing developing between The Pilot and me is something, potentially, pretty special;
-  I'm going to miss him like crazy when he disappears home next week;
-  I am in extreme danger of falling for this man - falling flat on my face or falling madly in love remains to be seen. I'm hoping for the latter but have plenty of experience of dealing with the former, if worse comes to worse.

In the meantime, I'm off to court, before disappearing to a wonderfully cosy, country pub for a weekend of debauchery....oops, did I really say that...I meant discovery (which, hopefully, won't include the discovery of any previously unseen red flags)!

Sod the miles, seas and continents...I'll worry about those next week....will report back after the weekend....

Prepare for take off!

Well, what to say? Only one word for my most recent date ... AMAZING!

 The Pilot is everything I hoped he would be. After a nerve wracking blind date moment, when I did a great impression of a demented goldfish, I and the man with the sparkliest eyes in the world, settled into easy banter over a bottle of red... he bought  me beautiful flowers, champagne and his great taste in wine.

We talked, drank wine and laughed.... a lot. We kissed, drank champagne and laughed a lot more...

He bought me a Pandora charm to remind us of a perfect day - an apt silver aeroplane. I have a feeling I may be spending a lot of time on aeroplanes going forward. Sunday's date led to another on Monday and we've agreed to disappear at the weekend for a couple of days away from the world in a cosy country pub somewhere..before he jets off home.

And then, of course, there's Eurostar... Paris has been rescheduled for a couple of weeks time.
So, ladies and gentlemen, the next bottle of champagne is in the diary for the weekend, and The Pilot says, fasten your seatbelts, sit back and prepare for take off. The romantic adventure of Daisy's life is about to begin....

Mr. Pilot!

Well, the day of the date has dawned bright and cold. Whilst the snow has held off overnight, the roads are treacherous. The major roads, however, are gritted and slightly better. I'm just hoping, in light of the obstacles to meeting we've already faced, that he will make it in one piece and our first date won't be across a bed in A&E.

To add to the litany of mishaps, my brand new boiler is on the blink so I have no heating and no hot water and had to pop round to a friend's earlier to shower. 

As I joked yesterday with Mr. P, if we still want to meet up after all this, there must be something going on between us! I like his tenacity ... it matches my own.

I also like his attitude to the 'seas, continents and miles' issue. When I mused over what we would do if we really clicked, his response 'I don't want to look back in 10 years time and regret that I may have missed out on meeting the one, just because of a few miles; geography is a hurdle to jump - not insurmountable.' He clearly hasn't realised my lack of athletic prowess and I don't think I shall enlighten him just yet...I last hurdled at school and never cleared one.

Anyway, I now have a new name for Mr. P....from now on I shall call him The Pilot, as that's what he is. He chooses to tell new people he meets that he works in metal or, more often, aluminium tubing as it amuses him to see if they can think outside the box and work out what he really does, and also avoids some of the less savoury stereotypes that are made about what certain pilots get up too on trips away.

An example of such was yesterday when I had coffee with Mr. Socks,who,apparently, is the world authority on what, in his words, 'flyboys get up too' and thinks he should 'interview' The Pilot for me as he's good at 'reading people'. As I pointed out, he's hardly a role model for enduring, successful relationships...I think I'll judge this one for myself! 

Just two hours to go until we meet; I live in hope that this one doesn't end with a crash landing...

Mr. P or not Mr. P!

Well, Mr. P and I are finally in the same country, some 4 weeks after he first emailed me. Our tentative liaison is unusual in that, whereas internet based meetings are often very fast - dates being arranged within hours of first contact - ours, by necessity has been different. I have already spent a month getting to know him. I hope it will make our first meeting much less nerve wracking.

He called me as soon as he landed and has spent the last 48 hours dealing with the aforementioned wicked step mother less than 50 miles away (as opposed to several thousand, a few seas and at least two continents away), a fact that is strangely reassuring.

In theory we are planning to meet tomorrow; in practice the snow may foil us again. If we still get to meet after family tragedy, cancelled trains, the worst snow since records began, not to mention the miles, seas and continents then I shall take that as a sign of good things to come. The man has tenacity, I'll give him that; crikey, The Young Rick Stein couldn't even make it to a pub ten minutes from his house!

I have to confess to being very excited about this date and almost as convinced as Mr. P seems to be, that this has promise. Just over 24 hours to go and if a first date leads to a second then I think I shall have to dream up a new sobriquet for him as, increasingly, I'm beginning to think that Mr. P makes him sound like a man with an unfortunate urinary complaint! I think this one definitely deserves better! Tomorrow will tell...

There is a God!

There is a God!

I know this because I have just received an email from Eurostar advising me that tomorrow's service has been cancelled, due to adverse weather conditions. The irony being that if Mr. P hadn't had to postpone our Paris adventure, I would have had too but at least my non-refundable, non-transferable ticket has suddenly become refundable and transferable to any other service with no additional payment!

 Result! Clearly my father (see In Memory of a Special Man) has stopped chatting up the angels and put a good word in for his eldest daughter and her disastrous love life..... I say this because, as well as an unexpected refund, Mr. P is in Paris again twice next month and has already suggested meeting up, so convinced is he that we could have stumbled on something pretty amazing...

I appreciate that previous form does not bode well for romantic success, so I have banked my Eurostar credit for the time being...as opposed to rebooking!

However, I am quietly optimistic that this mad thing with Mr. P has potential...

Five hours until he lands. Will report in tomorrow...

Snow flake?!

Well, the time to meet Mr. P in Paris had almost arrived and I was more than excited....We have spent several more hours chatting - thank God for Skype - and a few more pertinent facts have transpired - he is extremely well travelled, gives the impression of being extremely comfortable in his own skin and doesn't play silly games. In the words of a dear friend who I showed his photo, 'Oh my goodness, he's handsome; a real man.' I concur entirely!

Talking of friends, why is it that none of my friends are remotely surprised that I'm considering dating a man who lives quite so far away? Not only that, they're all positively excited about it. The friend of Turkish Delight fame (see earlier post) said it reminded her of about 10 years ago when I met Mr. Dyson. Reminds me of that too!

However, the perceptive amongst you may have noticed the words 'had' and 'was' in the opening sentence above...past tense. The date I had been so looking forward to has had to be rearranged. Yes just rearranged, not cancelled and, for once, with very good reason involving a sad and very personal tragedy for Mr. P and a wicked stepmother...

The end result is that, whilst Paris is no more and my £94 non-refundable Eurostar ticket hasn't turned out to be such a bargain as I thought, Mr. P will instead be spending the next couple of weeks in the UK. In fact, he is in the air heading for Heathrow, as I write, and, assuming the weather doesn't foil  aircraft landing and he doesn't turn out to be as flakey as the snow that's forcast......mmm...let the fun begin!

Fish Food!

As I write, I am sat in a hair and beauty salon with my hair in foils and covered in bronze coloured goo, my jeans rolled up to my knees and my feet dangling in a tank full of small fish! The aquatic theme that seems to unconsciously permeate my blog continues!

I was persuaded by my lovely stylist to try out their new Garra Rufa fish pedicure. For those of you who have never had the privilege, I'm not entirely sure I'd recommend it!

It is the weirdest sensation, having ones feet nibbled by hundreds of small fish...but the hardest part is immersing your feet in the first place. I now have some slight idea what it must be like for the 'celebrities' in the jungle who walk blindfold into tanks of unspeakable creatures. It took me 5 minutes to actually dip my toes in and I screamed do loudly that my stylist said I was the funniest client she'd ever seen and would definitely have been a major hit on YouTube if she'd been filming me! The cheek!

All I can say is...thank God Mr. P can't see me now or there wouldn't be a hope of him turning up for the Parisien rendezvous!

Brief Encounter!

Well, the deed is done...good old Eurostar have a sale on...so even if the date is an unmitigated disaster, I haven't bankrupted myself in the process. In my view, just the fun of a day in Paris is worth £94 of anyone's money.

So a few more details about my new date....he grew up in Zimbabwe (he has a great accent and would rough it round Africa with me-my favourite place on earth!), he has a strong, kind face (that wouldn't scare small children and certainly looks good to me in a rugged 'grown up in sunny climes' sort of way!), he's not made any smutty or in appropriate comments (albeit a mutual attraction is growing all the time) and...and....maybe a few thousand miles is surmountable....any relationship that develops might even stand some chance of survival if we only see each other every few weeks!

Eight sleeps to go, as my 7 year old niece would say! Better start brushing up on my French...and if we get carried away in the excitement of it all I shan't feel bad...after all crimes of passion are defensible in France, aren't they...!? He's meeting me at Gare du Nord...it all feels very Brief Encounter and fantastically romantic. Let us hope that the date is not such a disaster that it needs to be brief in the literal sense!

French Kiss!

Well so far, still exciting...the laughter continues and the conversation flows. If it weren't for the fact that I got chatting to Mr. P via a free dating membership, and we'd now swapped real life contact details, I'd think he was a plant employed by a dating site to encourage the renewal of membership!

Hard to believe but so far there are no red flags....not even pink bunting.

We are currently planning lunch in Paris in a couple of weeks time, when he's there on business...logistics, several continents and a few seas make it difficult to meet sooner....but I'm happy to wait and am just enjoying getting to know him in the meantime...at least I can be reasonably certain that, due to the time difference and conversations we have at all times of our respective nights, that he's unlikely to have a wife stashed away that he's forgotten to mention...

Will there be a French kiss or seduction on the Seine? Who knows, probably not if my last date in Paris is a template....

When I stop to think about it, the whole scenario is absurd. What the hell will we do if the easy banter and tentative chemistry we've found at a distance translates into real life? For now, I shan't permit myself to consider the possibility, as the consequences of finding the elusive spark with this man could complicate life, even beyond my highly tuned organisational skills and love of adventure...

His take on the subject, when probed as to the sense or purpose in meeting up.... 'We're a long time dead'!

Indeed...back to the Eurostar timetable then!