The way to a man's heart is through his stomach

Yesterday my friend came to visit and I had a few bananas which were either good for the bin, or perfect for a cake, so I baked a cake! At this point I must admit that I have very little self restrain when it comes to bakeries, especially if chocolate is involved as it was in this case.

As my friend wasn't ready to share too many calories with me I took what was left to work to avoid turning into the Bibendum.

Now, I must warn you. This wasn't just any cake! This was my trade mark cake. The one all of my friends, colleagues around the world ask me for, and I am not even exaggerating here so far it has gone to U.A.E., U.S.A., Australia, NZ , Turkey and Bristol...

Once at work, I did my usual and put the cake out on the kitchenette table, just as Mr Smile was getting himself a cup of tea, I pointed out the that he should help himself to some cake before it vanished. A bit later as I am on the phone in my office I see him pass my door and do a double take, pop is head through my door and did the international sign for "Delicious", and gave me his usual big smile.

Later on Mr Snag show his face through my door, Mr Snag is Muslim and therefore doing Ramadan at the moment (no food from sunrise to sundown), it was is birthday on Sunday (24 y.o.) and he had brought in some cupcakes if I fancied some. Obviously, I obliged, not wanting to insult him, and because it was chocolate ones. (Did I mention that I am a complete chocolate addict?) I told him that I had made some cake if he wanted some to take home with him for iftar (break of fast). I am not sure if he did, all I know is that I left a full cake on the table before my meeting and that one hour and a half later it had all gone!

Before I left work I popped into my client's office to discuss one of my files and I asked him if he had managed to get some cake.

My client: "No, I didn't. Is there any left?"

Me: "It's all gone I'm afraid"

Mr C then adds: "I had the last bit, it was delicious! So moist!"

Me: "You see, I told you I could bake!"

Mr C: "You made it?? I don't mean to sound sexist, and it isn't meant to be sexist, but I love a woman who can bake." And yes, you guessed it, I made my excuses and left... after turning bright red.

I know what you did last Thursday ... Or not...

Today was my first day back to work after a lovely long weekend.  And the first discussion I had with one of my colleagues went that way:
Him: "Have you heard any goss?"
Me: "No. What goss?"
Him: "I heard some goss about you!", followed by a girly giggle...
Me, playing naive: "Really? Because my weekend was very quiet"
Him: "I didn't mean your weekend! I meant last Thursday!"
Me: "I know... So I guess someone told you that a gentleman walked me back to the Tube Station, but unlike your source, we each went our own way and so we both turned up on Friday with clean clothes and not wearing exactly the same shirt and trousers we wore the day before... I think you need to choose better sources..."
Him, slightly embarrassed: "Ooohh...."
Ah, ah!

A bit later I asked the other half of the gossip, Mr Smile, whether he had heard the latest bit of goss in the office (all in good humour). He smiled (so cute) and told me not to pay any attention to it that our colleague was good at starting gossip (always innocent ones). God he is soooo cute!

Day dreaming

When I was a little girl my mum would read me stories of princess being whisked away by a beautiful prince on a white horse. As I grew up this is what I was kind of hoping for in real life. Of course as I past my teens I came to realise that at best my prince charming would have a nice car Peugeot 205 was the cool car of the day.

Since I moved to London my nan has been the one doing the day dreaming for me. She has kept a picture of Prince William on her wall with the secret hope that her favourite granddaughter might actually marry him.

Today for the first time in a long time I found myself back day dreaming, only now I am not hoping for a white horse or even a Peugeot 205 (I'm pretty sure that teens nowadays wouldn't even now what a 205 is...), just for a ring. After my ex I promised myself not to look again at engagement rings, they felt jinxed. But the same way as I have given up believing in Fairy tales, the whole black magic should no longer be part of my core believes and so I went on to a jewellery website and started picking rings. Well I surely could not choose just one, after all, once I meet The One, he must have a chance to make some kind of decision in choosing The Ring, a very guided decision of course. One would not want to walk around for the rest of her life with a ridiculous ring.

Ok, maybe I should re-phrase: L'Amoureuse would not want to spend the rest of her life with a ridiculous ring...

Loosing the will...

I don't know if it is because of my close encounter on Thursday or simply because there is only so much internet dating one can do, but I am starting to loose the will to:
a) check the website for the "winks" and messages
b) to respond to the "winks" and messages
c) to make the effort to meet some of those potential suitors
I realised today that I hadn't responded to an e-mail sent to me 10 days ago and asking me to meet up.
I am not just loosing the will, I am also loosing the touch!
C minus, Must try harder

Mixing work and pleasure...

... is it a good idea?
Last night was my work drinks. It is no ordinary drinks. The ratio man-woman is of 100 to 1. Unfortunately most of them are builders, and not the sexy type you might see on Coca Cola ads. More the wide, crack showing type, nothing to get very excited about.
Except... Except for the potential of seeing Mr C outside of the strict walls of the office, and hopefully avoiding total embarrassment. Also maybe finding a bit more about Mr Snag, and to my surprise a query from someone I have longed secretly admired and thought was not interested in me but who seemed keen to know whether I would be attending the festivities.
Mr Snag was a no show.
Mr C only stayed for a bit and I didn't get to chat to him. The truth is I got intimidated by a stunning girl who had join his group and seemed so comfortable with him that I though she may have been his partner. As I found out later she was his PA. A very funny girl. And very flirty.
But the biggest surprised of the night was the interest demonstrated by Mr Smile. We started chatting on a regular basis over lunch a few months back (I refuse to seat at my desk for lunch and so I will often make use of the kitchenette provided in my office). He has always be interesting to talk too. He is cute, half Malaysian/ half English. He has an amazing smile that just makes you melt. He is probably shorter than I would normally go for but his charms make up for it.
Although I had a bit of a crush on him, I had come to the conclusion that he wasn't "into me". He was always lovely with me, but seemed to display the same niceness towards my colleagues. I had put him in the "Just a lovely guy" category and moved on. But last night, he wasn't just being his charming self. He made sure that I spend some time with him. He waved me towards him as I was moving from one group to the other in true "Rule Girl" style. When I went to get some food (The British "Eating is Cheating" rule has never caught up with me), he accompanied me and found seats for us. When we went back to the bar area, one of my French friend (in his fifties) decided to introduce me to his entire team, all male, and then went on to to tell me about his divorce. Mr Smile moved on to catch up with his colleagues. I went on to mingle a bit more...
About one hour later I passed near him after being told that a drink was waiting for me at the other end of the bar... He called after me, asking where I had been and when will I be back chatting with him. I told him that I would be back soon to explain. I had a quick chat with my client and a few more colleagues and only then went back to see him. A little while later my French friend came with two twenty something guys, all speaking French and greeting me in the traditional French way, shake hands and the compulsory kisses on the cheeks. I failed to do the introduction as my friend was getting quite agitated, due to excessive alcohol consumption and the excitement created by his two new companions. Mr Smile must have felt threaten as he just jumped in, stretch his hand to one of the two lads and with his best French went: "Bonjour! Ca va?" to the point where my new friends thought he actually did speak French. I realised my lack of manners and quickly corrected: "Mr Smile, those are my friends two sons, Frenchy and Froggy..." His face pretty much collapsed. I think he thought he had made a complete fool of himself. I thought it was the cutest thing I had seen in a long time. Nothing wrong with displaying a bit of jealousy.
We discussed a bit more literature, music and West End shows and then it was time to leave. As the true gentleman he is he walked me to the tube station and took the train with me as far as the next stop that allowed him back on his route home.
Nothing happened, yet a lot seemed to. But, there is always a but, for one, we work in the same office, only for another 3 weeks... but worst, he is moving to Kenya for 6 months.
Is it worth any emotional attachment? Or should I maybe just take it as a bit of fun?
Let see what next week brings...

L'Amoureuse in red

Since I have read The Rules I have been trying my very best to be nonchalant, slightly aloof, around men that I was interested in. Unfortunately there is this one person around which I can't remain/ pretend to be aloof. Every time he speaks to me I turn bright red. It first happened about a week ago when we had our first "more than one exchange" chat. And ever since, well, it hasn't got any better.

I know he realised what was happening the first time around because he gave a slightly surprised/ pleased with himself smile, and ever since he makes a point to make a little comment every time he sees me, turning me from cool and collected into this blushing teenager with a crush on her teacher. How embarrassing! And I have no doubt that he does it in purpose.

To top it all I made the "mistake" to ask our client out for a drink in front of him on Friday (all professional, we were going for a end of week drink with my colleague). They didn't follow so I assume that they weren't coming. I sent my colleague to find us a table and went to the bar to order.

As I was waiting for our drinks to arrive I spotted our client coming toward the bar... and Mr C walking next to him. I started hoping that they were on their way to the tube station, until they came through the bar's door. At this stage there was no more pretending... They were joining us for drinks. How will I survive seating with him and holding a casual/ slightly professional conversation with him, my client and my colleague without turning red? I went for the easy solution: Alcohol! And it worked. At least if I believe my colleague who made a point of telling me how well I did after they left.

Just another few months of blushing before moving on to pasture new.

L'Amoureuse & the stars...

I have never been one for horoscopes, most of the time I would just ignore them. Until...
I picked up a copy of the Metro at my station on my way to work the other day. I had finished my book and needed something to entertain me on the way there. I usually only manage to go as far as the middle of the paper. This time I picked it up again at lunch time and running out of thing to read on it, without going into the sport section I decided for a laugh to read my horoscope. To my surprise, that's what it read:
"Your Love life has been sending you some very confusing signals to late. In fact you must be dizzy with the amount of activity that has been taking place around you lately, my friend."
Quick look back at the few days leading to this:

• Date with Ned,
• Colleague unveiling who has a "secret" crush on me at work, Mr Snag
• Me turning bright red in front of my client, on a daily basis... Mr C
• Courier calling out in the street, as I come out of my office in my full builders gear, "Hello Gorgeous!".

Maybe I spent my life reading the wrong horoscope? Maybe I should give this one a go???

The following day I went out for lunch with my colleague and over some sushi she asks me when I am going to put Mr Snag out of his misery. I didn't think I was putting him into any misery, he hasn't acknowledge to me that he liked me or wanted to take me out, I am treating him like a colleague. She went on to tell me what happened a couple of days before whilst I was out of the office. He stormed into our tiny office with a joyful "Bonjour! Comment ca va?" then looked in and my colleagues pointed out that I wasn't in. Him: "Ooooh... (pause) G'day!" (one of my colleague is Australian). Bless. He is quite sweet... and quite young. Early twenties.
When we got back in the office I felt the urge to check whether the horoscope would be as spot on as the previous day and fetch my copy of Metro.

 "You're toying with a certain person's emotions. The moon is pushing you into mischief and you don't seem to be putting up too much of a fight. Set a guideline, know how far is too far."

Seriously? How did they pull this one off 2 days in a row?
I swear, I am not making that up! And I am the most septic person when it comes to horoscopes! But you have to admit that their timing was incredible!
Let's see what's Monday edition will come up with...

What a date!

I had a date with Ned tonight.
I know I said I wasn't impressed with our telephone chat but I decided that it was probably due to me being upset at my car being smashed by some yobs a few hours before.
I therefore decided to give him a second chance and a date. We agreed to meet in central London in a nice area. He had picked a bar that I had never heard of before. The bar was hidden in the back corridor of a hotel.
I always went by the rules of never going to a bar in a hotel for a date. It just sound and feels wrong and might give your date the wrong idea about what you have in mind. But...
Despite the not so comfortable feeling and the slightly old fashion, border line shabby look of the hotel reception, I dutifully followed my date into the corridor to a dark door with just a name on the door. On the other side of the door a tiny room with 2 doors and covered in Mickey Mouse cartoon strip wall paper. One doors has a neon sign reading Tattoo and Piercing, the other one is a fire escape door...  As it happens we had to buzz at the door with the Tattoo sign above. A small window slid open and a pair of eyes checked us out before opening the door. At this stage I have many thoughts going through my head, most of them along the lines of "Where the Hell is he taking me?" and "How long before I'm dead?".
I almost expected:
a) Gangsters playing pokers, 30's style, in a room full of smoke, cash and gun on the tables
b) Loads of men and women in dodgy vinyl sex play wear, leash in hand and dog collar around the neck of fat men on all fours
c) Crazy white coat wearing chemical students working on the latest popping pill for the next rave
d) a mix of all the above

What we found was none of the above. Instead we entered this extremely quirky bar playing 30's music in a nonchalant atmosphere. Sardines tin clock on the wall, Mona Lisa in an impression of Little Britain's "The computer says no..." Mismatch furnitures which somehow merge together nicely. Shortly after we arrived a group of musician arrived to set up. And in other circumstances I would have stayed to listen to it, unfortunately, as much as I loved the bar, I did not feel the same about my date. Ned was nice enough, but my fear from our phone chat did turn out to be founded.
We barely met up that he started describing what he had been told he had done wrong on previous date (not making a big effort on choosing place to take his date to, he sure has improve on that), then the conversation was flowing but mostly felt forced and false. I just don't think we had much in common.
Judging by the way we parted, no shake of hand or kiss on the cheek, we both felt the same way.
Well, at least we tried...

Big Brother's best mate

Sometimes you need to be cunning whilst sticking to the Rules. I uploaded the pictures of last nights party on my Facebook and tagged my "Big Brother" and his friends I had on my FB on the pictures. I so happened to have a picture of one of his best friends with one of the gentlemen who was chatting me up last night, and I happen to know that they are friends on FB. Again, you have to love FB for those kind of things. The best friend, unknowingly helped me along by tagging the say gentleman on the picture.
I have made the photos open to my friends and their friends hoping that this certain gentlemen might make the most of it and make contact.
Let's wait and see...

Big Brother is watching

Being an only child I have always dreamt to have a big brother. Someone to look out for me, to protect me from trouble and to get me out of it when I managed to get myself in some.

Luckily through my life I have met a couple of people who, although are not blood related, fill this gap. And I was out with one of them last night.

It was a great night and there was a few nice single men too.

As I was ordering at the bar, one of them came to chat to me. As we chatted I heard this very loud "WTF! What are you doing here?". That was my "BB". It turned out they new each other from work! I let them chat for a bit and then before the guy left he mentioned how he would love to get the chance to chat again later. I reminded him that he would know exactly where to find me at the bar, near his ex-colleague. He came back later to find out where we were going next. I told him that I would be following my BB as I was staying with him and his fiancé that night. He went to have a chat with him and just left without a word. Not what I expected.

Like a good Rules Girl, I let it go and move on to chatting to some more people.

Charming man number 2 comes along, a friend of BB, and we chat he is cheeky and funny and we keep mingling with other people. Then I see him chatting to BB... The next time I chat to him, his attitude seems to have slightly changed, and again he leaves without asking for my number.

Ummm.... I think I may need to have a chat with BB. He is supposed to be looking after me, not scaring any man slightly interested in me away!!

I told him this morning that should any of the 2 contact him for my number he was free to give it to them but under no circumstances should he bring it up to them. I figure that following the Rules would mean that they would have to make the first step and effort by asking BB for my number.

I won't be holding my breath on that one. Shame, they were cute.

Crime against first encounter

After my car being vandalised earlier this week and a few days going out fro drinks with friends to get over it I felt like it was time for some pampering, as recommended by "The Rules". So after having a chat with my parents, I went off to my bathroom and started working on my hair, covering the odd grey one which dares showing through, Because I'm worth it...
My hair was properly covered with colouring shampoo when my door bell went. Damn it! It's got to be the Jehovah Witnesses again! Obviously my "I'm a devil worth-shipper" from last time didn't work as well as I thought. Surely with my hair covered in black hair colour it should do it this time. I go to my upstairs bedroom window to check who is at my door.
Oops, not the Jehovah witnesses. Instead 2 policemen are waiting there, looking a bit impatient...
"Hi... You're here about my car?... Sorry, give me 5 minutes..."
OH... SHIT! One of them is cute! What am I supposed to do now?
I wrap myself in my cutest bathrobe. That covers the dodgy PJ's I am still wearing at 11:45! Unfortunately there is not much to do about the smudge of colouring shampoo on my face... Damn it! Talk about bad timing.
I rush down the stairs, slightly shaky at the idea of looking like a complete Muppet in front of 2 police officers (mostly in front of the cute one, of course) I open the door and apologise profusely about my appearance, but  by their look I know it's too late. The first impression has been ruined. I looked like a middle age woman trying hard to hide her age by colouring her hair. It's a fail!
Maybe it was just the uniform and the handcuffs who did for me after all... The old fantasy of a man in uniform...
On the plus side, they did give me their number, but I guess it doesn't count as they didn't ask me for mine. Just not "Rules" like!

Ned...

Last night was a bad one in more than one way. My car got vandalised by some kids, leaving me with a big bill with my insurance. But it was also the night for my first call with the new man... And it didn't go well.
I did keep it to 10 minutes, for once. I don't know whether it was because I was annoyed about my car and stressed out or whether I just wasn't that impressed with his voice and his lack of conversation but he very much reminded me of Ned Flanders, in the Simpsons. I apologise at the beginning of our chat as I knew that I wouldn't be sounding my chirpy self due to the earliest incident. He's answer where along the lines of "Crickey" and "Didley Doo...". I know that most women might be impressed by a man who never swears, but I work on a building site! We mentioned calling each other again, but I doubt he was too impressed either.
I think Ned might not be a match after all.

Men are like buses...

... you wait for one for ages and then three turn up.


After a few quiet weeks on the dating front, it seems that suddenly I could well have 3 dates!
Ok, I am exaggerating a bit, one of the "dates" is meeting up with a friend. But it is still a free drink!
On the more serious side I know have a phone date with someone I met on one of the website. He is slightly younger, 1 or 2 years younger, slightly taller, a few inches, seems quite cute and very outdoory. For what I have found out so far he enjoys climbing. Not sure whether this will lead to anything yet, but I should try to play it by "The Rules" and only give him 10 minutes on the phone to ask me out!
The second was a bit less expected. One of the guys I used to deal with on one of my previous job had his birthday, maybe a week ago. I sent him a message on Facebook, as one does when one is reminded (you have to love Facebook for that! I have always been the worst at remembering birthdays and now I don't miss one!). Anyway, he sent me a message to saying "Thank you Madame", so I gently reminded him that, actually, it's Mademoiselle. Next thing I know he is asking me out for drinks! Like a true Rules Girl, I shall let him wait until tomorrow for an answer.
To be continued...

English men can't dance

We had decided many years ago with my best friend that English men couldn't dance and therefore could never be marriage potential. We had signed a verbal pack that our husband would be latino. After all, everybody knows that latinos are the best and sexiest dancers in the world. I mean, who can wrap you in their arms in one swift movement at the cue of a note, only to then send you away and catch you just in time by the tip of your fingers to bring you back so close to them that the only reason you have not yet have intercourse are the clothes you are wearing.
My friend broke that promise many years ago and decided to marry an Englishman. As expected he cannot dance to save his life but the way he loves her sure makes up for his lack of arms/torso/hips/feet coordination.
I am thankful that she broke the promise first as I have discovered that latinos are not all they are cracked up to be...
Don't get me wrong, I am still hoping to meet someone who likes dancing as much as I do. With that in mind, and the fact that most women love a man in uniform, and I count myself as one of those women, I thought that this video would be a major turn on... It just shows how wrong I can be!

Enjoy!