Tuesday, 26 January 2010

One, two, buckle my...

When I said it was over, I had meant it. Alas, I was caught off-guard and I buckled.

I gave in, in a moment of weakness I allowed my loins to take the call. I agreed to see the married man.


Then, because, my stomach instantly turned over with butterflies, my ego soothed and in all honesty I was flattered.

Now, I can't justify it.

The first message said how much he had missed me, and what he would do if he saw me again. I ignored it. The second message stated how much he wanted to see me. I said I was out of London. The third message asked me to let him know when I was back.  I ignored it. The fourth message a week later asked me to meet him that night. And I did.

Four messages - is that all it takes?!

The sex was predictably animalistic, wanton, wrong and almost clinical. He has a colder Thirty than the one he met months ago. We kiss a lot, but not enough. We fuck hard but hardly intimate.

I like the fact he doesn't stay the night, I can chastise myself and I can hit my head against a wall without his help, thank you very much!

All in all, afterwards I felt physically satiated yet emotionally empty.

The Holy Trinity

When I think back over the last year and try to work out what has changed, and much has, I realise I am missing something...

What I am missing is The Holy Trinity. Not in religious terms, The Holy Trinity was a term for three of my closest male friends. I was an honorary member of the group but never fully paid up.

In the last year they have each met a girl, settled down, and now either co-habiting or married.

Never to be seen again.

There is the occasional text, or usually polite decline to whichever party I have invited them to. They each missed my birthday for individual personal reasons and didn't even enquire into New Year.

I miss the testosterone, banter and fun that comes from a group of male friends. Without them in my life I feel the need to replace that testosterone.

As a female friend (to them at least) I have expired, past my best before date, surplus to requirement.

Monday, 25 January 2010


After a particularly uncomfortable commute this morning, I was left with a smelly shoulder courtesy of a fellow passenger. I'm not sure if I will have to burn the coat but it will need more than just one dry clean, I can just tell.

I am reminded of a string of dates, five to be exact:

The first date was great, we got on well, too well. The second date we got to the room marked heavy petting, as we cuddled in a lustful state, I noticed the odd whiff emitting from this charming new man in my life. Hey, everyone is allowed to get a sweat on! 

Over dates three and four, it got so bad, I would have to turn my head discreetly as he gesticulated. 

Date five and I ended it, I had to, my breathing was becoming erratic.

Was the body odour as offensive as I recall or merely that it wasn't a pheromone I was equipped to deal with?  I sometimes wonder if I should have told him...


Say a woman makes up a facebook profile in the shape of a blonde 21 year old hottie, lures her husband in and discovers he is a love rat, is that entrapment?

On two occasions I have found myself in a black hole of uncertainty, I have gone to lengths that I now don't recognise in myself.

By text

After a party where my usually tactile boyfriend acted like a OCD germaphobe, I couldn't get past the arms length distance of "I'm fine..." before it became "I said I'm fine.." I sent my boyfriend a text from a number he would not recognise.

"Hi, we met at suchandsuch's party last night, wondered if you wanted to go to a gig next weekend...", after a few text messages, he had said that he was pracrically single and a few more text messages he had confirmed going to a gig with his new 'admirer', i.e. me. The information had empowered me, I left it a couple of days, before dropping into conversation that me and my best friend would be going to that gig, which was the truth, we'd had tickets for months. I wanted to watch him squirm, and that he did.

We broke up shortly afterwards, very amicably. Well, if you were to ask him it was amicable.

A couple of years ago, I did reveal to him the truth, he turned a bright shade of crimson with embarrassed and in his best Terry Thomas voice, he furnished me with a drink and said "My darling, I would like to apologise, one for hurting you and two for being an utter cad, it wasn't anything to do with you, it was me. Will you forgive me?". 

The it's not you, it's me line? Per-lease!

By email

My then-boyfriend, a different one, suddenly became very secretive, I set up an anonymous hotmail address and sent a provocative email to him.

When he responded, bile reached the back of my throat, I opened his email and his friendly nature was "Hey, you sent this in error, seems like the sort of email you would want to know had gone astray." I let out a deep breath, although tears were running down my face.

I continued the correspondence, in a less provocative manner this time. My boyf confided in this 'stranger' more feelings that he had with me for ages.

When 'my online persona' suggested meeting up he said that he loved his girlfriend and could one day see himself marrying her. I ultimately felt like shit.

Although these were both in my late teens/early twenties, each time I felt unable to speak my mind without sounding like a scary crazy lady, which of course says more about the dymancics of the relationship than anything else.

I can't imagine feeling like I couldn't communicate or my gut instinct be so off base that I would need to fish again. Never say never.

Whether these or other offers could be deemed entrapment, the line is certainly a grey area.

Personally, I think it's less to do with temptation and more about timing.

Unscheduled break

I've had a few days off, kindly provided by the lack of internet, special thanks goes to one of the leading UK broadband providers.

No, really, thank you for highlighting how my life revolves around the web for nearly all non-physical activities. I was taken back to a land before computers.

Where time was spent on long bike rides and baking bread. Two activities that could have been put into long overdue practice, had it not been for the fact that both my recipes and cycling maps are saved online.

Monday, 18 January 2010

Office Romance

Although this currently exists within the safety of my cranium, my intuition may turn out to be correct. I love people watching. Not in a creepy in-a-tree-with-binoculars-kind-of-way...

I think two of my colleagues may be embarking on an affair. My evidence:

- They are both in so-so relationships with other people
- When they met, they were animated with 'me too-isms'
- At first they were chatty and good humoured with one another, they practically ignore each other
- Their 'over the water cooler' chatter is inane to the point of ridiculous (which of course it would be if pillow talk has taken over as preferred communication)
- They leave the office for breaks and lunch exactly four minutes apart

My boredom threshold has reached its pinnacle, it might be time to find a new job.

Horoscope for today:
Although this is a back-to-work day for many, you aren't quite ready to jump into the action. You are attracted to the camaraderie at work now, but it could be tough to get excited about much beyond the social distractions. Don't be too hard on yourself if you don't accomplish a lot today. You should have a chance to make up for your current lack of productivity later in the week.

Oooooh young man

A comment left on a previous post highlighted the acute embarrassment I felt. "Older women and younger men always smacks a little of desperation...".

I was left with the question "do I care what people think of me"?  I honestly don't know the definitive answer to that.  Sometimes, of course I care, at other times, no.  

The date with the young man went ahead as planned, I'm extremely glad it did.  His confidence and candour, both under estimated but very welcome.  The date ended with a passionate kiss and this morning I've already received an enthusiastic email enquiring into my availability to meet again.

Age is just a number, however, I can't help but think of Harry Enfield's sketch - 'Oooooh young man'.

Sunday, 17 January 2010

In me I trust

After the upset and disturbance I felt yesterday it wasn't long before I placed thinking up strategies of revenge on hold to take a long hard look in the mirror.

I was upset because she had pushed a button.  A button I thought was inactive and hidden yet all the while it was laying dormant seemingly awaiting to be surreptitiously plunged down.

Saturday, 16 January 2010

In friends we trust

My problems with friends is that I love them, in the same breath I can hate them.

Friend: ...So I heard you slept with...

Me: Who told you that?

Friend: (name mutual friend)

It wasn't that she necessarily disclosed my sexual activities, it's just an example of people I am close to that I don't feel I can trust.

In three lines, I feel I have gone ten steps forward and ninety-nine steps back. I feel cold, defensive, upset and above all confused.

Must have toy: boy

Having a young man on one's arm is all the rage, the ultimate must-have accessory for the modern mature woman.

Married in 2005, after a couple of years together Demi Moore and her young Spunk'd-muffin Kutcher are touting the philosophy that love knows no age and very successfully so. Skipping over the news of Sam Taylor-Wood carrying her teenage boyfriend's baby for just one second... 

The recent Robinson affair (yeah, Mrs Robinson, you couldn't make it up, oh yeah they did, and they put it all in a 1960s film staring Dustin Hoffman..) and the respective age gap of 30 years feels almost sinister or is that only due to the way it has been reported?

Yet if the roles were reversed; a man and his younger lover, would it even have made such a mess? Although even the celebrity couple that spring to mind; Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta Jones share only a gap of 25 years!

Can one compare a young man to the active ingredients in the leading eye cream? Probably not, but I would be backing the young man every time!

In the lead up to my thirtieth birthday, at the solid age of 29, I thought it might be my last chance to go out with an 18/19 year old without it being positively yucky, even then it was more a voiced opinion than actual desire. 

I got the chance to experiment with such a notion quicker than I could have foreseen. Post-football match, a friend and I got chatting to two young men:

One of us: How are old are you?

One of them: 22

One of us: ...Sorry how old? (the pub was full to the brim, the acoustics making the venue sound like a Yorkshire Terrier convention, I merely didn't hear the answer rather than question it...)

One of them: Uhm, okay, we're 19... (pause) nearly...

We laughed at the confidence that was consuming the teenagers and we all ended up drinking with the young whipper-snappers until the last bell. Outside the tube station, I (nearly) avoided a sloppy yet enthusiastic saliva display. 

In the morning, it felt wrong! I like men my own age, sometimes a year or so either side.

That said, I am going on a date with Master Enigma this weekend, he is twenty three (a figure which looks better in words) and to be fair I am a little embarrassed. He is young, he doesn't necessarily have a young way about him, more that he's so upbeat and positive about everything!

Saying that, maybe this is my new habit, younger men; Jason was five years my junior. Although with Jason it didn't notice, you would have guessed he was mid/late twenties but he had an attitude where the world balanced heavily on his shoulders.

- Would that age gap even matter if I were 41 and him 33? Urgh, actually maybe.
- Am I one of those women who needs a young man to feel youthful? No.
- Will my friends crucify me? Probably, definitely at first. 
- Is the commitment-phobe in me attracted to men who are in no terms ready for commitment (young/broken/it's complicated)? Next question please...
- Do I have too many male friends that have at some point traded down (only in age). Perhaps.

I know that I need more than a young man on my arm to feel complete.  So why am I even entertaining the notion of this young stallion

Because he challenged me. 
Because he has a confidence without any hint of bitterness. 
Because he laughs as my jokes (even the not-very-funny ones). 
Because I believe in him. 
Because he has kind eyes.

Let's leave out for the time being that he is a saucepot!

"The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age."