Lucky Number 21?

20. That's the number of men I've dated in the past year. Each suitor was tried, tested, and rendered unsuitable.

California, my latest conquest, showed so much promise. Handsome, charming, and ridiculously successful; I thought that I had finally found "the one."

We went out on 1 real date and hung out at a few parties together, and I quickly realized that he was a total player. I immediately became detached and did something that I've never done before. I charmed him, bedded him, and then left him.

All these unsucessful dating experiences have me thinking that maybe I'm the one whose fucked and not my dates. But, perhaps patience is truly a virtue and I might just get lucky with number 21.

P.S. I really love this fucking coat...

Snow and the Singleton

Today it snowed in London. When it snows here it is like a natural catastrophe. Most businesses close early and everyone looks forward to playing hookey. Couples can enjoy hours of cuddling on the sofa and really hot marathon sex, but where does that leave us singletons?

In other news, I am officially on a diet for the new year. I devoured absolutely everything in sight over the holidays and now my mid-section has swelled to Precious like proportions!

It's 2010, Bitches!

I absolutely love the holidays! I've been in New York visiting my family for the past week and I've done absolutely nothing outside of stuffing my face and boozing.

This weekend I met up with two of my favorite people here. The evening started out quite innocently, but after two drinks I was making out with a Navy man who I renamed "Salmon Shirt" and molesting AP's friend Snowflake. NYC is the bomb, really.

But as we all know, all good things must come to an end. My ass is headed back to London tomorrow to resume work at my rather unfulfilling 9 to 5. In spite of that, I still have a ridiculously positive outlook for 2010 and absolutely cannot wait to get things started!

WTF

Over the last few weeks while in the midst of a few drunken escapes I met two seemingly nice men.

I met the first guy while I was heading home after having a few drinks with friends. He kept me company while I was on what seemed to be the longest bus journey home. As a courtesy for keeping me entertained throughout the ride, I slipped him my number before getting off the bus.

I met the second guy as I stumbled home a few weeks later. He saw that I was unsteady and he ran to my aid. He walked me to my doorstep which I thought was really kind, and then, as a courtesy, I slipped him my number before entering my house.

Over the past few weeks tweedle dee and tweedle dumb have been blowing up my freaking phone non-stop and leaving me psychotic messages because I won't answer their calls.

Recently tweedle dee has gotten a bit more clever and has started called me from an unknown number.

Since when did guys you randomly gave your number to actually start calling?

And more importantly, why is it that guys that you actually want to call never do?

A Litte Bit Too Ordinary...

Boy, I've really missed blogging. But I must admit, that my life hasn't exactly been the most blog-worthy of as late.

I constantly moaned about my former place of employment, but somehow I have now found myself doing the dreaded 9 to 5. I've been working like a robot for nearly a month and just don't know if I'm really cut out for routines, and normalcy and predictability.

I'm still hanging out with the fossil and I really like him, but is it really possible for me to be in a relationship with a man in his 40's?

I've been out on dates with a few others but no one substantial enough to blog about.

My life has been a little bit too quiet for a little bit too long, so expect for me to shake things up real soon...

Getting Back Into the Swing of Things

The lack of a willing photographer has absolutely thwarted my blogging efforts, but I think I've found a solution to this problem.

Here's a quick recap of the last month or two:

• Prince and I are platonic


• I've been out on dates with a slew of men but most of them were complete idiots and either fall into the Douchebag or Cuntface category


• I wriggled my way into the Punchbowl with my good friend Red Hot and rubbed elbows with Justin Timberlake and Guy Ritchie who was surprisingly a hot piece of ass


• I spontaneously quit my ridiculously lame job yesterday and am left with less than a month to find a suitable replacement

Although I 've dated a few unsuitable men there are now 2 characters in my love life. “The Fossil” plays the lead while "Junior" plays a supporting role.

The Fossil is a 41 year old “entrepreneur,” who is handsome, funny, smart and ridiculously smooth.

Junior is a 23 year old aspiring financial tycoon who moonlights as a bartender. He is handsome and sweet, and has a certain sense of innocence that I find quite endearing.

I'm absolutely rubbish when it comes to work and dating so it'll be interesting to see how everything progresses in the next few weeks...

Perhaps There Is A Light At The End Of The Tunnel....

Last week was hard. I was homesick, bleeding, and growing increasingly disillusioned with my London adventure.

This week has gotten off to an unusual start and somethings happened that's given me a little glimmer of hope...