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!

Happy New Year!

One last post before we wave goodbye to 2012 and welcome in the New Year. In my case it will be with good friends, champagne and a smile on my face...for once!

Despite some tumultuous times over the last year, it has ended well with interesting changes in my career, all my friends still alive and well, and a new and interesting turn of events on the dating front....

Remember that glass of champagne I poured at the end of the last post...well, the accompanying email led to a few more, which led to copious texts and finally several hours on the phone to the man who lives a few seas, a continent or two and several thousand miles away...

I appreciate that, due to logistics, a quick Starbucks is out of the question and my mother may well be concerned that I'm setting myself to be sold into domestic slavery in a foreign land. She needn't worry - if the new potential date has any aspirations in that direction he'll soon realise that he will be giving a refund to potential purchasers. A domestic goddess I'm not!

What I am, is a little bit excited and, as aforestated, I only go on dates that I'm excited about these days! For the time being, and for reasons I shall not divulge at present, I shall call him Mr. P!

Mr. P likes champagne, 'works in metal' (literally or metaphorically, I shall let you guess) and travels a lot for business and pleasure, is a little older than me with (thankfully) grown up children and we get on well...at a distance at least... I have every confidence that when we meet we're bound to fall hard and fast for each other as the geographical complications would make the situation ...err... difficult to say the least! You know me...never one to make life easy for myself...but it's surely never dull!

So as 2012 passes into 2013 I shall raise a glass to my friends, life, Mr. P and readers of my blog...I hope that the new year will be as eventful as the last, with a few less rip curls along the way....but just enough to keep you all reading. Until then....Happy New Year!

Discount Dating!

Other people get 'round robin' notes in Christmas cards and emails from friends exaggerating the success of their offspring, listing the holidays and home improvements they've undertaken and  wishing festive cheer to every acquaintance who has ever flitted through their contact list. I had a few of those...

However, more prevalent amidst 2012's flurry of Christmas greetings was a barrage of emails from dating sites - large and small - offering discounts and, in once instance, a 7 day  free membership. Who was I to refuse? After all, you just never know and maybe all the good guys, who had had as many bad experiences as me and previously cancelled memberships in disgust, would take up the cudgel and join for a few days....I might get lucky...

So it was that I clicked the button to activate this Christmas gift from the kindly individuals at one of the broadsheet dating sites.

Clearly everyone of the other ten thousand members had the same idea as within 24 hours I was inundated with messages....half of which came from men who had emailed me before and I had politely declined due to geography, age or inability to write in sentences who had clearly forgotten our earlier communications; a few generic emails came from men who had clearly sent the same communication to every woman on the site within a certain age range and one came from a man who lived some considerable way away.

I shan't divulge where for now but, let's just say, it wouldn't be massively convenient to meet for a quick coffee. My immediate reaction was to think he must have misread my location. After reading his email I realised that he had not - therefore the obvious conclusion must be that he was mad, despite his eloquent and interesting missive. How did he think we were going to rendezvous in Starbucks when a sea, various continents and a few thousand miles divided us?!

God, the guy I dated, before Classified, struggled with a 150 mile distance! So what's a sane woman to do in these circumstances? Thanks, but no thanks, of course...

However, as you know, Daisy's sanity is clearly already questionable ... on the basis she still believes in love and romance despite everything ....so she did what any insane person would do....poured herself a glass of champagne and emailed him back.....would this be the first installment of many....?

Sex, drugs & criminal law!

I shall leave Mr. Cruise for the time being - as it turned into something of a shipwreck, albeit that no-one died -and tell you about the recent exploits of myself and my criminal defence colleagues...

As the festive season is upon us, we are obliged to enjoy ourselves (apparently)!

Certain of my clients have definitely been enjoying themselves recently - there was the man who, having been dumped by his partner, had taken up gardening wearing her bra and thong after bombarding her with 300 texts in 10 days; then there was the young man guilty, allegedly, of assault by spoon! Yup, it's true...a dessert spoon, as I recall!

And what have their briefs been up too whilst our clients have been keeping the local constabulary busy? Why, sex and drugs of course, albeit that no offences were committed.

Summonsed to arrive at the airport at some unearthly hour a week before Christmas, our party of six was met by boarding cards to Amsterdam! No soggy sprouts or overcooked poultry us. Whisked off to lunch in a superb restaurant, after a canal trip to see the sights, I felt extremely fortunate to be part of such a great team.

Many memorable moments ensued...not least the cuddly pink teddy bears with pierced genitals (why?!) and the passive inhalation of a ton of dope as we passed a 'coffee shop' .....

Sadly, one of our number remained in the UK to defend our client base who, predictably, were out in force on the night before our trip raping and pillaging (or in truth, assaulting people with spoons and wearing women's underwear)...he did volunteer...

A fantastic day had by all - perfect sustenance to get the single woman through the endurance test ahead....Christmas & New Year!

This Christmas however....something quite unexpected and potentially exciting happened...it started with a free 7 day membership to a dating site...