The Short Australian

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It was a typical Saturday night in the new rather boring life of the International Woman of Mystery. I was having I'm Attractive Single Friend C and Hot Married Friend L over for a drink and the plan was to head out to the bars. Hot Married Friend L brought her hunky husband and I'm Attractive Single Friend C brought her new man who I'm naming Silver Fox because he is an attractive gentleman of a slightly older age...

So, that left me the odd woman out - as usual. I don't mind. I love Hot Married Friend L's husband - he's great! And I was excited to meet I'm Attractive Single Friend C's new man. But I have to say, it was one of those nights that I wished I had a plus one to sit next to. Sometimes it's tiring always being the 3rd wheel or the 5th wheel as it may be.

After some drinks at my house, we decided to wander down to the local pub to get some food and some more drinks. The couples were all cuddly and I was sitting there alone. And suddenly someone observed "Hey International Woman of Mystery, there is a handsome man sitting at the bar and totally checking you out!"

"What? Where?" And then I saw him. He was sitting alone at the bar. He was handsome... And he was totally checking me out! He kept turning around and looking over at our table. I was obviously the only single one there.

By this time we were finished eating dinner and I'm Attractive Single Friend C and the Silver Fox decided to head for home. It just so happened that the seats at the bar next to the cute guy opened up. I decided to seize the opportunity and go sit next to him (Hot Married Friend L and her husband joined me). We immediately started talking. As soon as he opened his mouth, I was like "So... you're Australian?" Kind of hard to miss the accent. Plus, he was at the bar alone (which is not so weird considering it's a local sports bar), so we had been speculating that he was from out of town.

So, the Australian and I continued our conversation even though Hot Married Friend L and her husband decided to leave. He was interesting and cute - although slightly older (confirmed age of 38)  than my usual boys . (What is up with me and older men these days)?

And then he stood up. Uh - oh... It wasn't quite as bad as that Sex and the City episode where Samantha meets an extremely short guy at the bar (similar scenario, he'd been sitting on a bar stool), he did come up somewhere past my chest... but he was definately WAY under 6 feet (my minimum requirement) and absolutely MUCH shorter than me - of course, I was wearing 4 inch heels...

I wasn't too surprised though. I'd gotten a feeling that he was short. I was just wishing he would be that short.  Anyway, turns out we are more or less neighbors. We chatted. He walked me home. There might or might not have been some kind of goodnight kiss. He has just texted me to ask what I'm up to this weekend (although sadly, that is kind of devoted to my Grandfather's funeral). I might or might not reply.

BUT I TOTALLY checked off number 6 from the dating challenge: relax on the height requirement. Ok, technically, I might have to go out with him again... And maybe I will.

I know. I owe you an update on Stockholm and on the Tour Guide. Coming soon!

Returning to London: Part II - The Date

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So, needless to say after my all-nighter, I was VERY tired when I finally found my way into my very small bed in my very small London hotel room at 7 am. So tired that I didn't wake up until 4 pm and had totally missed brunch with Sexy Single Friend A - which I was really bummed about. I also woke up with a hangover. But, it was Saturday and I was in London for a short time only, so I forced myself into the shower and met my colleagues for dinner and drinks. But it was an early night this time. I was back in the hotel room by midnight. Although... I have to say, if my colleagues had been up for it (they weren't), I could have pulled another all nighter!

On Sunday I got up comparatively early and spent the late morning at the gym followed by some shopping and then I met M and T for dinner and drinks then back to the hotel to get some sleep before the work week.

Monday and Tuesday were busy with work and catching up with old colleagues and of course paying visits to the London pubs around the office and getting my fill of pints.

Nostalgia definitely set in. It was strange. Here I was back in London, it felt almost as if I had never left. Part of me wanted to stay and never leave again.

But let's put the reflections aside and get to the good stuff.

On Wednesday night, I attended a gathering arranged by The Company for some of our field staff. Of course this involved a trip to the pub after and drinks sponsored by The Company. I had fun catching up with European colleagues and doing some networking. But soon enough the pints got the best of me and I had to go to the ladies room. I walked into the women's room, entered the stall and did my business. I was washing my hands when suddenly a man walks out of the stall next to me. He looks at me, then looks around and then looks back at me and sheepishly says in his British accent "I'm in the women's room, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are actually," I said. And then we had a good laugh about it. I noticed that he was tall and attractive although perhaps a bit older (his age was later confirmed to be 37) than the young hotties I tend to go for and perhaps a bit less "pretty-boy" and a bit more "rugged" then tends to be my norm.

We returned to the bar and ordered another round of pints and continued to talk. He was really interesting. He is an actor and a certified London tour guide. Well-traveled and very outgoing with lots of interesting stories. When that bar closed, we went on to a loungey place and continued talking. My colleagues bailed out one-by-one but this guy had me hooked with his stories about travel and London history. But once again, the lights at the bar came on and the bartenders were kicking us out. Is anyone counting? This is the 4th time during the trip that I shut down the bar/club. Actually it was the 5th! On Tuesday night, my colleagues and I were also kicked out of a bar at midnight when it was closing (some pubs in London close at midnight - most close at 11. Clubs and loungey-type places close between 3 and 6).

The British Tour Guide then safely escorted me to a cab. "Too bad, I don't have an extra helmet with me, or I would give you a ride on my motorbike he said." But before I took off for my hotel the following two things happened:

1. We kissed. It was nice. 
2. He persuaded me to have lunch with him the next day before catching my flight to Stockholm. 

"Text me in the morning," I told him.

As I had Thursday and Friday off from work, I got to sleep in a bit in the morning - which was nice since I didn't actually get back to the hotel until 4 am - which is REALLY late on a school night! Upon getting out of the shower, I got a text from the Tour Guide. He was still interested in lunch. Was I? I was interested! Although I was supposed to have lunch with old colleagues... But I'll be back in London soon enough, I can meet them next time... Why not go on a date with the hot British Tour Guide?

It was a beautiful day in London. The sun was out. It was almost-warm (balmy compared to Boston actually). It felt like spring. We decided to walk around an art gallery (Museums are free in London which is really great). It was so much fun to walk around with him! He observed things in a different way than me and kept me amused with his running commentary. Obviously, being a certified Tour Guide means he has impressive knowledge of London and it's history. I learned more about the Chelsea area of London in that one afternoon than I had in all my time living there. Too bad I didn't know him when I actually LIVED in London. Funny how that works.

After the art gallery, we sat outside (yes it was that warm) in the sun and had coffee and continued to talk.All in all, it was a great date! I have not had a single positive interaction with a man since the British countryside incident. It was really nice to be back in the dating game. It was really nice to have a man interested in me. It was a really nice date. He was a really nice guy. Unfortunately, he kind of lives on the wrong continent.*

Sadly, the time caught up with us too quickly - I had a flight to catch, So, the Tour Guide walked me back to the hotel and saw me off in a cab to the airport to head to Stockholm.

Although excited to go meet my friends in Stockholm, I was sad to leave London. I wondered if I would ever hear from or see the Tour Guide again.

Stay tuned for the final installment of this trip: Stockholm! There is just so much to tell you. Also coming soon - a Valentine's Day post! It is tomorrow. It is not my favorite holiday although I've had some very interesting Valetntine's Day over the years in many different countries. And I just might have a date (a blind double date) lined up for tomorrow night! And if that doesn't get you excited, I also met a guy this weekend that I need to tell you about. AND are you curious at all about what has happened with the Tour Guide? Has he been in touch? Are we Facebook friends? Is he planning a visit? Stay tuned and find out!

*Note: I can now check number 4 of my list of dating challenges because I can now say that I have been on a date with an older man! http://womaninternational.blogspot.com/2011/01/dating-update-part-ii.html

First Weekend Back Home

photo courtesy of portfolio.kevinthom.com

So, yeah. I survived my first weekend in the countryside. And it was a long weekend as today is Columbus Day (you know 1492 Columbus sailed the ocean blue...). 

In case you are interested, the weekend was kind of like this:

On Friday night after the car purchasing experience, I stayed home BY MYSELF as my parents ditched me for dinner with friends (see how happy they are that I'm home). So, I ordered  Chinese take-out and watched a documentary on TV (oh man did the millions of channels overwhelm my non-TV watching self) on Hippies that was kind of interesting.

On Saturday I spent time on the phone with the car insurance agency, then ran 4.5 miles and did some core exercises (apparently according to Mr. Personal Trainer, I have a weak core - so I'm trying to improve on this. Damn planks. They kick my ass - or my abs as it may be).

Then I jumped in the shower quickly as I had agreed to meet a high school friend - the boy who shared the locker next to mine for 6 years (poor boy) who I have known since I was 3. Locker Boy had seen that I was moving home on Facebook and had a little too eagerly gotten in touch with me.

He originally suggested that we go hiking in the Berkshires - where he lives now. But as didn't want to drive up to the Berkshires because I hate to drive I had some stuff to do in the morning, I suggested he come down here instead. He then suggested that we go kayaking. It was an absolutely gorgeous crisp autumn day so I agreed.*

As I was rushing to get ready, I realized that this felt kinda like a date. Weird. And while this guy is nice and good-looking-ish and I did have a crush on him for about 5 minutes in the EIGHTH GRADE, these days, he is not really my type. I mean he is the typical, small-town, baggy stonewashed jeans and Red Sox hat wearing, Republican type of American boy.

Speaking of clothes... I realized that once again, as per usual, I had packed like an asshole (it happens every time). I did not have any appropriate country-activity type of clothes with me (remember, I have just 2 suitcases of stuff with me, the rest is on a boat from England). Skinny jeans and high heels did not really seem appropriate for kayaking... Neither did a dress. Besides, what do you wear for kayaking anyway? I have only been kayaking in a bathing suite in the summer. Exasperated with my lack of kayak clothing options and running late (as per usual), I decided to throw on a skirt while fixing my hair and makeup and figure out what to wear later.

Unfortunately Locker Boy arrived before I got around the changing my clothes again. He laughed at my outfit and told me it was not appropriate for kayaking. "Don't you have any jeans?" he asked.


"Ummm... only skinnny jeans."

"Sweat pants?"

"Ummm... no. I will sort something out," I said and left him alone with my parent's dog while I scrambled to assemble an appropriate kayaking outfit.

I finally settled on black khaki-type pants, sneakers, sweater, scarf and jacket. I grabbed the skirt though and a pair of boots and decided to bring them with me.

Locker Boy deemed my outfit appropriate but laughed at me for bringing a skirt with me.

Anyway, we drove up on small country roads taking in the beautiful autumn scenery (seriously, I cannot say this too many times NOTHING BEATS FALL IN NEW ENGLAND) to some small town I had never heard of (we are talking hickville here) and went out kayaking on a big lake. 

photo courtesy of jasonfarnsworth.com



Not to brag or anything, but I do have to admit that I was kind of awesome at kayaking and Locker Boy was struggling to catch up - for real. He had a laugh at this because his father (who the kayak's belonged to) was all worried that I wouldn't be able to kayak at all. Jeez. This family has known me since I was a little kid. They should know how sporty I am!

It was lovely out on the lake - we kayaked from one end to the other taking just over an hour to do so and feeling pretty tired by the end. It was a beautiful day but windy and the water was extremely choppy and we ended up soaking wet! Well let me tell you, I was the one laughing when after getting completely soaked kayaking, I could slip into my skirt and boots and be all nice and dry while Locker Boy had to endure his wet jeans!

We then decided to head to the local pub where they make their own micro-brew (the master brewer graduated with us from high school - see it's that kind of small town that my parents live in). There we had pints - oops... I guess pints are in the British word. I think in America it's drafts?

Anyway, we had some drafts of the local brew. Another thing I LOVE about America: micro-brews! I had yummy American Wheat beer (or 2 or possibly 3) and also a fabulous pumpkin spice beer. Gotta love America and all it's flavour options (if you are American, you know what I mean - and no this does not exist in other countries like it does here - I have never seen pumpkin spice listed as a flavor outside the good old USA). I'm feeling fall festive and so I'm loving pumpkin flavors right now (seems like everything from coffee, to muffins, to beer has this option here).

Locker Boy was interesting to talk to and surprisingly a good conversationalist. Although the interesting part is that we were so different. He was Mr. American and I was Ms International... He was all waxing poetic about why guns are great (Yes Europe, I'm so serious here) and I was all like - "guns are illegal in Europe and therefore the homicide rate is lower." I told him that cops in the London do not even carry guns (thank you Mr. Sexy Policeman for that bit of info) and he found this hard to believe. Although we were both stumped over the question of how to "de-gun" America if it ever came to that (I admit that would be a hard one), leading him to conclude that my visions of a gun-free America are ridiculous and therefore I should suck it up and learn to love guns. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em right? Right? Well maybe that will be my next purchase after the apartment - KIDDING!

He admitted he has conservative views - i.e. he is was against abortion and gay marriage and thinks Obama's an idiot. I actually kept my mouth shut and left him to his right-wing views without trying to argue for once - actually I was shocked silent since I had forgotten that yes, this is America. I realized that I'm kind of ill-equipped to go head-to-head on American politics at the moment. I need a quick brush up on American politics and to figure out where I stand exactly on key issues (it's strange but it was easy to not pick sides on American politics while living abroad, and I'm used to being the conservative one when discussing politics with Europeans).

And of course I talked about my life abroad and my travels. He seemed impressed with all the places that I had been. And of course talking about traveling got me excited and all I wanted to do was get back on a plane and go back abroad. (Sob).

And then we had this conversation which I feel perfectly exemplifies why it's going to be so hard to fit back into American life:


Him: "Like are there any countries you would never go to? I mean, like why would you want to go to Iceland? You wouldn't ever go there right?"

Me: "Well, I was actually there on Wednesday..."

Silence.

Locker Boy: "You are kidding right?"

Me: "Well no, I technically was only at the airport so that doesn't really count. But yes, I was in Iceland on Wednesday for 2 hours, so I'm not lying. But I hear it's a cool place and it is somewhere I really want to go and hang out..."

Silence.

Locker Boy: "Wow. It's kind of hard to talk to you. You have done everything. I have done nothing unless you count going to New Orleans two years ago."

Silence.

So... there it is. My life as an International Woman of Mystery is over. And not only that. Having that experience makes me weird and just plain hard to talk to. Great!

And so the date ended - and admitedly conservative talk aside, I had a really nice time. I went home and hung out with my parents and their dog and their cat and my blog.

On Sunday, I laid out at the pool and willed the autumn sun to give me some color - it did but only a little. Then went for a 6 mile run followed by more exercises. Then my Mom made me my favorite lobster dinner!

On Monday, I spent the morning searching apartment listings in Boston (next task) and doing more move-related emailing (i.e. trying to get my security deposit back from my London apartment, arguing on the phone with British Telecom over my bill - again, trying to figure how to wire my money from my London account to my US account, and hassling with the movers over my customs documents). And then I spent the afternoon at the mall wherea among other things I purchased an IPAD!!!!

As if it wasn't enough that I bought a car this weekend, I had to then rush out and buy and Ipad too (say nothing of a few new clothes to update the back-to-work wardrobe). Let me tell you, the Ipad is soooo cool (except for the fact that you cannot blog on it - you can read blogs, but you can't blog, or at least I can't find the right app - does anyone know of one)?

Is it really bad that I secretly think that my Ipad is cooler than my new car? Although I might change my mind tomorrow when I actually take possession of the car.

So, that was it. My exciting first weekend back in the US. A far cry from my club nights and meeting hot boys in London... And a bit more expensive too.*

*When talking about what "moving home" would be like, my Swedish friends tried to reassure me that my life in the US wouldn't be so different than my life anywhere else. I told them they were crazy. I was all like "Hello? Boston is a small city with a very student oriented night life. The bars close at 1 or 2 am. There is no hot single 30 something scene like there is in Stockholm. There are no nightclubs like there are in London. My life is totally going to change. I'm going to spend my weekends hiking and doing outdoorsy sporty country things."


But Swedish ladies - here's your proof! This International Woman of Mystery has become a Country Girl!

They didn't believe me...

The End of Summer

It's official summer is over. Here in the UK the August bank holiday that marks the official end of summer here has came and gone two weeks ago. And this past Monday was Labor Day in the US - the official end of summer for Americans.

My question is where the hell did summer go? I feel like it just started yesterday!

And because I live in London, I think that I do have the right to bitch about the weather. So, let me start by saying this summer was a complete let down! Although it started off well enough. And the weather I had while on vacation in the US was amazing! I was expecting to return to London in mid-July to experience some nice warm summer days in London. Boy was I disappointed! It was rainy and cold in London all summer! Other than the 4 weeks I spent in the US, I feel like I had no summer at all. Boo!

Alright, enough complaining. Let's quickly review what I did this summer...

To start with, I hit up the wonderful country of Spain twice in one month - first Barcelona and then Madrid!

I watched the second Sex in the City Movie.

I stressed about my summer of weddings and what I was going to wear and how I was going to face all those weddings ALONE as a single gal.

I went to the first fabulous wedding in Sweden and where I kissed a younger hot boy. I saw a dear old friend get married in Western Massachusetts. I went to San Fransisco where saw my "other brother"  get married in the most over the top kick ass party non-traditional wedding of the year.

I chilled at home in the USA with my parents and their pets and thought a lot about Americans. I went to one of my oldest friend B's beautiful wedding on Nantucket where I got to dine on yummy lobster and catch up with old friends.

I spent some time on boats on the Thames. The first time, I got to DRIVE the boat. The second time I met a hot Swedish guy dressed like Chuck Bass.

I went for a fantastic weekend trip to Smogen with the girls where we ate lots of seafood and I kissed a cute boy in the rain.

I experimented with leaving Chelsea. I went on boring date with a Scottish guy from Match, but I had more fun dating myself. The best date however was with the sexy cop - but unfortunately, he wasn't that into me.

I thought a lot about what it means to be a foreigner and what men should clearly not do when Internet dating.

I also offered up some words of wisdom.

I wrote my first unfortunate drunk blog. I went clubbing and met hot boys.

I went on a totally awesome trip to South Africa and saw 7 lions while on a safari!

And after all that overindulgence and alcohol this summer, I decided that since my clothes no longer fit right, I need to hit the gym and therefore I started to see a personal trainer who makes me do really crazy things.

I also found out my Ex-Boyfriend got engaged! And the Beautiful Swede reached out to me again. I have not written him back though - I'm proud to say!

So, what does the autumn bring for this International Woman of Mystery? Well, funny that you should ask? Because MASSIVE changes are on the horizon. I mean huge. But more on that later.

Stay tuned for an update on my awesome trip to Stockholm.

Toodles.

The Sexy Cop

So, there is this guy on Match.com that I had been writing back and forth with for awhile. He seemed to check the boxes: tall, dark, good-looking, "over-educated" (whatever that means), and to top it all off - he is a cop! And well let's face it, that's kind of hot! Right? We had been talking about meeting up for some time, but as usual I kept being a bit reluctant.

The thing is, as I have expressed before, I'm shy! I get super nervous to go out on dates. So, it takes a lot for me to work up to going out with someone. I don't know how some people can do it. It must be more natural or less stressful for them. I have friends who go on multiple dates per week with Internet matches. I can hardly manage multiple dates in a month.

BTW. If you want to meet a girl who totally knows how to rock a dating schedule - check out Date Me DC's fabulous blog. Her blog is what mine aspired to be before I realized that I neither had the time nor the energy and was too inclined to an overload of pre-date stress to date that much. But she does truly inspire me (and she writes a hell of a blog - so check her out)!

Unfortunately to add to my dating stress, going on a date inevitably involves taking the dreaded subway (or the Tube as they call it here). I think I honestly have a mild disorder. I'm actually sadly serious here. My friends might tell you that I don't take the subway because I think I'm too posh, but actually, it unfortunately goes much deeper than that.

I have never met anyone who dreads the subway more than me. The big factor is that I need space and I need control over my space. I can't stand being enclosed in small  areas with lots of pushing strangers (although oddly nightclubs and bars even when crowded are usually ok - Thank God). I do not like strange people touching me - even by accident. So, being way deep underground on the hot crowded subway with massive amounts of people packed into small fast moving cars with no escape from people rubbing up against me, well this folks is a nightmare for me. I actually have to count in my head the whole time I'm on the subway and mentally calm myself down.*

But really the fastest (and cheapest) way to Central London is to take the Tube and also I admit it does seem kind of snobby and overly posh to tell a guy you are meeting for the first time that you are arriving by taxi to meet him at the subway stop.

So, for this sexy cop, I braved the subway. Luckily it was not rush hour (like the last time I took the Tube and had a small panic attack and vowed to never take it again). So, it wasn't too crowded. I decided to stand as it was just 6 stops. The other reason I do not like the subway is that it gives weird people an opportunity to talk to you. Of course there was a guy standing across from me staring at me who eventually came over and told me that I was "absolutely stunning." Umm... Thank you kind stranger for totally being totally creepy (I moved away from him fast) but also for kind of boosting my confidence before a date. I mean, what woman doesn't want to be told they are "stunning." A compliment is a compliment even if coming from a weird looking track-suit wearing guy of indistinguishable age on the subway.

The Sexy Cop is standing there waiting for me when I exit the Tube station. I always find it so awkward to greet these "blind" dates! And trying to make small talk as you are walking to the "date place" is always a bit painful. To make matters worse, I'm wearing super high heels and we are walking on cobble stones and I'm teetering around and not doing a great job at keeping up the small talk because I'm trying not to fall on my ass!
We eventually make it to a wine bar. As we enter he asks me "You do drink, right?" And he looks relieved when I say "yes." But inside my head I'm actually screaming. "Yes please! Give me a drink now!! I just took the subway and walked over cobblestones in high heels. And I'm nervous to meet you! Yes, I want a damn drink."

Luckily, the drinks come quickly and we settle into a table and being the "first date conversation." But unlike with my last Match date, this one seems to go pretty smoothly. There is no awkwardness or hesitation. He kept up his end of the conversation extremely well. I was really interested to hear about the life of a British Police Officer.

But get this. This guy is no ordinary Cop. His self proclaimed "over education" that he mentioned on his profile... well how about a full on PhD IN ASTROPHYSICS no less! But he said that Academia bored him and working for NASA just didn't really get him going. So, he decided to trade it all in for the life of a London Police Officer.

And now he chases gang members in the bad "hoods" of London. Literally - on foot. He described endless foot chases to me. Do you know that in London, the cops don't even have guns? So, he basically chases gangsters with his baton. Crazy. But he seemed to love his job and it made for interesting conversation.

Anyway, we stayed for three drinks (I was a bit tipsy toward the end of the night) and we there were no awkward pauses or hesitations. All in all, it was a good to great date! Although, I'm not sure we really had any chemistry. And I definitely don't think we have a future. - his face kind of fell when I told him I was not staying in London much longer and he sent me a text message later that basically said: "Was nice to meet you. Good luck with your move." So, it doesn't seem like a second date is in the plans. But I was glad that I went on this date.

*You will be happy to know that I try not to let my subway phobia too drastically affect my life. I just need to live in walking distance of my work (been fine for the past 6 years) or driving distance as you do in the US. I will also tell you that I have been on some of the most crowded subways in the world including Moscow and Shanghai where there is literally someone whose job it is to "push" people in and pack them into the subway... So, I'm not totally dysfunctional. It's just better for me and everyone around me that I try to limit my subway use. And let's face it, I can afford the occasional taxi. So, it's so not a big deal.

London Weekend Part II: Saturday

Before I tell you all about my Saturday in London and my Match date! I ask that you my fellow blog readers please click on the “follow” button on the right-hand side of my blog. This will hopefully help show that I have a cool blog that is worth readingg and maybe will help me to attract more followers. And I then hope you will tune in on a regular basis! And oh yeah - spread the word. If you like what you read, send to friends! Thanks for the support!

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming....

So, after my Friday night out in Clapham, Saturday morning arrived along with an uninvited hangover. I am one of those people who gets hangovers very easily and tend to spend an awful lot of weekends suffering through. I wish I could say that stops me from drinking... but it unfortunately, it doesn’t...

Nor does it stop me from taking tequila shots with M. Every time I go out with her (although I do think that I am really getting too old for shots). It’s like we feel the need to relive our early twenties spent drinking shots and Long Island Ice Tea’s on Mao Ming Lu in Shanghai. But that’s a story or another day.

Now back to Saturday. I wake up. I am grumpy with a hangover. I wander around Chelsea a bit and get something to eat. I think about going to the park but end up going to lay back down in bed and taking a small nap instead. Luckily, when I wake up from the small nap, the hangover is almost gone so I decide to go for a long run on the Thames to kill the hangover once and for all.

When I get back from the run, I realize that it is Saturday night and sadly  I have absolutely nothing at all to do. I start to feel a bit sorry for myself. For whatever reason,. on this Saturday night, I was not content to stay at home alone! I really wanted to go out and do something. For the first time, I start to realize that I'm lonely in London!

So, when in need of something to do or more accurately, someone to do it with, why not turn to Match.com. I mean isn't this why I'm paying for the subscription? So, that’s what I did. And in fact one of the men (a Scottish man so let’s call him the Scotsman) had been talking to had nothing to do either. So, we decided that we should meet up for an impromptu date.

I’m pretty sure that it the fastest that I have ever arranged a date. I usually write back and forth to guys for ages and then stress about the date for days in advance. This was was quick and easy to arrange - other than the fact that I had to explain to the Scotsman where Sloane Square is (when by the way he lives in Fulham - right next door to Chelsea) - which should have kind of set off immediate alarm bells.

So, we met outside the Subway stop at Sloane Square. And I was there first even though I was at least a fashionable 8 minutes later. Second bad sign. I want the guy to wait for me.

As he walked out of the subway, I could already tell that the Scotsman and I weren’t going to hit it off. What is it about chemistry? Why does one second of looking at someone tell you “yes” or “no?” It wasn’t that he wasn’t attractive... in fact, he was pretty good looking although at 6’1 he wasn’t quite as tall as I would like. But it was something about they way he moved that told me right away that unless he really turned on the charm, our relationship would be limited to a first date only.

I had suggested we go to the Botanist but it was a bit crowded. I wouldn’t have minded getting a drink there anyway, but I could see that he was kind of freaking out about the crowd. So, I asked him if he wanted to go somewhere else and he jumped at the chance to leave. The problem was that it was about 10 pm and bars were starting to close and the closest place I could think of to go was a 10 min walk.

I could tell he was annoyed by the walk. Which made me annoyed as I was the one in high heels! I kept joking with him that at least he got to see more of Chelsea... But, I don’t think he found it all that funny. Damn. He was definitely lacking a sense of humor and adventure and I was already finding it a bit tough to keep the conversation going.

We ended up at the Trafalagar on King’s Road. It’s not my favorite place but it’s ok. It’s a pub that is open until midnight though (most close at 11 pm) and since it was late, that was good. We ordered a round of drinks. I ordered Rose and he ordered cider - which I thought was a bit girly of him.

It wasn’t that anything was exactly wrong with him... He just seemed kind of bland and I didn’t feel that “spark” nor a good camaraderie. I felt like I was doing all the work to keep the conversation going. Its no fun when a date feels like work! And while I liked his Scottish accent, he was very soft spoken and I was having trouble hearing him. Especially since a huge party of about 15 loud and drunk people came in right after us and for some reason decided to all stand around the sofa we were sitting on. In fact two rather large women were literally sitting on the back of the sofa! It was really distracting trying to talk to this guy while trying to ignore the butts of these two women that were right in our faces.

In case you were wondering, ass in face = not good on a date.

We decided to get a second round and also to move location to get away from the big butt women. However, the second location didn’t prove to be much better. For some reason a guy at the table behind us was yelling “shut up” over again at the top of his lungs.* It was actually distracting the entire bar and eventually the bar staff had to tell him to stop. The whole thing was definitely annoying but the Scotsman was annoyed and upset by it to the point of complete distraction. Despite my best efforts not to focus on the shouting guy (and just ignore him and continue on with our already strained conversation) the Scotsman was not to be put off. He went on and on about what a jerk the shouting guy was. In general, the Scotsman seemed to just be annoyed about everything: the crowded bar, the long walk to the next bar, the ass in the face women, the loud man... I just couldn’t please him and I started to get the feeling that he just wasn’t all that much fun. I mean admittedly, all those things WERE slightly annoying but not really a big deal especially on a Saturday night where expectations were low and the alternative for both of us (need I remind you) was sitting at home alone. In fact, the events of the night could be viewed as rather amusing... That’s how I viewed them at least (I did think about telling him he should start to write a blog so that when you experience annoying things, at least you know it will be a good story).

Luckily it was last call and he needed to catch the subway before it stopped running. So, we walked out together and said our goodbyes. And as I’m dong a quick mental review of the date I decide that although there is no spark between us but the date also wasn’t that bad. In fact, it was better than sitting at home. But just as I’m thinking this and telling him good-bye, he actually says out loud: “Really nice to meet you... it was better than being home alone.” I was thinking the same but I WOULDN'T HAVE SAID IT OUT LOUD! Hello?  Manners? I was laughing inside but outwardly I gave him a purposefully awkward “ummmm thanks...” followed by an almost eye roll and a look that meant I wanted to get away as fast as possible. I think that as soon as the words escaped his mouth, he was embarrassed as he scurried away pretty quick after awkwardly attempting to kiss my cheek as I went more for a reluctant hug.

But I have to say, I had a good laugh the rest of the way home. I actually don't think he meant to be rude. At the end of the day, I guess that was really the best way to sum up the date: “Better than sitting at home alone on a Saturday night” (although just barely).

Stay tuned for part III of the (lonely) London weekend. Since dating men wasn’t working out well, I decided to have a nice Sunday afternoon date with myself!

*Sorry UK but you guys have the loudest and most obnoxious drunks I have ever seen! Why do people yell so loudly in bar? Or sing loud obnoxious song,s or for that matter, pass out in the street covered in their own vomit? It's kind of gross!

An American Affair in London

A Monday night in London. Two hot single Americans meet up in an apartment in Chelsea. After doing the required round of casual catching up, what else is there to do in London, but go to the Pub? So, off to the Pub we go. But unfortunately we only have time for one pint before we are kicked out. For some absurd reason Pubs close at 11 pm here - even on the weekends. So, said Pub sends us over to strange "smelly" (they did warn us) dive bar/lounge across the road. They were right, the place smelled bad and at 20 pounds for 2 drinks, it wasn't even cheap! I mean if you are in a dive bar/lounge, at least the very least the drinks should be cheap! After one drink and several funny pictures later, we decide that the only good thing about the overpriced and smelly place was the company (meaning us) and the conversation so we decided to head back to my apartment and continue to drink there.

As I've decided this blog is rated PG 13 (I accidentally told my parents about it), the rest of the night is censored, but you get the picture - cuz you're smart like that. But let's just say the boy still looked fabulous without a shirt on!

After approximately 2 hours and 25 minutes of sleep, needless to say, the next day at work was not fun. I found myself unable to finish any sentences because I kept loosing the point of what I was saying and forgetting to listen when other people spoke. It's amazing what sleep deprivation can do to you (and I am not even a person who generally needs a lot of sleep). I actually managed to speak on the phone to the manager of my Russian team for about an hour and hang up with literally no memory of the entire conversation. However, because I am kind of awesome at my job, I have perfected a very good auto-response mode. I can make really good sounds as if I'm actually listening to people while paying absolutely no attention at all. I think I'm pretty good at this - at least no one has really called me out on it yet. I also have a really good radar that enables me to tune back in for really the important parts. The problem is that by the time I realize that they are actually talking about something important, it's a bit late and I have to ask them to repeat themselves. But this is usually taken care of easily by a simple: "I'm sorry. The connection is bad and I missed that last part, can you repeat it? (Thanks to Skype and poor international mobile phone connections - this is usually pretty believable)

Anyway, continuing with my newly found rock star lifestyle, the Hot American Boy and I decide to take on the London nightlife on a Tuesday night. What do you know? There is quite a lot of nightlife to be found in London on a Tuesday night! After an amazing dinner of Indian food with the best Chicken Tikka Masala I have ever had, we went to Boujis a nightclub rumored to be a fun place during the week. Let's just say Boujis lived up to its reputation. To quote the Hot American "A Tuesday night in London is way better than any Saturday night in Boston." The place was great. The music was ok (he is a DJ so we did spend a lot of time critiquing the music and talking about how he could totally do it better). He liked to dance. I liked to dance. And we had great fun dancing and drinking together.

But the best part of the night was definitely the extreme mopping. Suddenly not one but two men wielding mops appeared on the dance floor. It seemed that their instruction was make sure to keep mopping all the time for as many hours as the club was open. HILARIOUS! I have never seen anything like it. We speculated a lot about what the reason could be behind the extreme mopping... We convinced ourselves that there must have been a major incident - possibly even a death - that caused the need for this particular club to pay TWO men to mop all night and physically move unsuspecting dancers and drinkers out of their way so they could make absolutely sure they kept the floor absolutely slip-free. The mop men took their jobs very seriously. They had their eyes to the floor the whole night circling the club - at times shining flashlights to make sure there weren't any puddles lurking about in the shadows. We were a witness to one serious crash as a drink fell and smashed all over the floor sending dangerously spraying liquid all over the floor where drunken dancers might accidentally fall victims. But we were very relived to see that the mop men had it covered. They seemed to have a special radar because in 2.5 seconds of the glass crashing, both mop men were there, running from across the room to clear the glass and liquid ensuring a safe environment for the drunken dancers.

But even rock stars need their sleep, and after another late night we finally headed home. I had decided to take the next day off from work so thankfully we got to sleep in. Miraculously we woke without hangovers and decided to go for a run in the park. I am a really good runner and I work out a lot. Usually when others work out with me they tend to regret it for the next few days as I make them do interval running, push ups, lunges, squats, step-ups for a minimum of one hour. I also have a competitive spirit that borders on unhealthy. So, of course I felt the need to tell the Hot American Boy it was ok if he felt he couldn't keep up with me... BAD IDEA. Note to self, when a guy has a six-pack, do not challenge them to a running competition. I was trying to make out like the tough girl that I pretend I am, but secretly I wanted to die the entire run - I couldn't breath! We ran way faster then I'm used to and did lots of push ups and burpys (not sure of the spelling here buyt it involves throwing yourself on the ground then jumping straight up in the air over and over again). He even did lunges better than me! When we finally got back to the house, I claimed "first shower" and hid myself immediately in the bathroom where I laid on the floor for the next 10 minutes trying not to throw up.

The rest of the day was spent in a more relaxed and less competitive manner with a trip to the V&A Museum where we saw an amazing Digital Design Exhibit, followed by afternoon tea (how British) and then a trip to Harrod's. I really hate shopping but for some reasons Harrod's is one of my favorite places in the world! It feels more like a Museum than a department store and I find it amazing how may luxury, unique and random things you can manage to stumble upon. Then back to my apartment where we opted for a night in with take-out and movies and cuddles on the coach. I admit... I was starting to really fall for this guy.

One interesting dynamic between me and the The Hot American boy is that we are both from the same place. We went to the same school, had the same teachers, knew the same people, had similar childhood experiences and reference points. I have lived abroad for so long now, that I forget what it's like to connect with someone just because we are from the same place. In my office of 150 people, we have 32 different nationalities, I spend my days explaining myself, trying to understand others, trying to relate to other cultures and looking for common ground. I had forgotten how powerful a connection of "hometown" can be.

But more important than the hometown connection, we seemed to be able to connect in the present as well. To be honest, I had kind of thought of his as just another pretty boy... I didn't expect much from him intelligence-wise or compatibility-wise. I apologize in advance for whoever I'm about to offend with this next part - it is most likely (as you will see has been proven) that my prejudices and stereotypes are part of my own ignorance and not the other way around... The thing is, this boy is from Western Mass. He is AMERICAN (I haven't dated an American since I left America 8 years ago). I expected him to be like the stereotype I have of an American boy from Western Mass (I won't go into details here). I also kind of expected him to be stupid or at least not that intelligent (because he's hot, not because he's American). But the Hot American Boy totally proved me wrong impressed me with his worldly knowledge and experience (he has traveled to quite a few places). In addition to having an impressive job and being seemingly a reliable and honest person, he is completely open-minded, moderately well-read, and open to new people and adventures, and curious about the world. He loves to travel and seemed envious of all the travel I had done and didn't seem to mind listening to my stories. Our common interest in traveling and general curiousness about the world even had me in a brief delusional moment vividly fantasizing about backpacking through South East Asia with him (something we both want to do)...

In addition to his general hotness, the fact that he looks fabulous without a shirt on, that we had tons of fun together, that we had great conversations, everything with him just felt so easy. We just got along. We never ran out of things to talk about, but were able to exist in silence without it being awkward. There was no arguing, no complications, no hidden agendas, no manipulations, no stress - just fun! He even gave me compliments on how I looked "your hair looks amazing" and on my clothes! If all that wasn't enough, the deal sealer was the boy even helped clean up around the house! Seriously. He won major points for making the bed (I can't stand an unmade bed) and doing the dishes and when he noticed that the table we had been eating on was messy, he even found the Windex and wiped it down! I love a man who knows how to clean - especially when he doesn't have to be asked (or nagged). What can be more sexy than that?

If the days we had spent together could be considered a first date, it was one of the best first dates ever! It almost restored my faith in men. It was admittedly the most fun I've had with a man since my Ex - the Beautiful Swede - he was maybe even better than the Beautiful Swede. My time with him was at least definitely way better then when the Swedish Adventurer came to visit. Rather than counting the hours until he would leave, I was wishing that time would stop and we could keep hanging out. But all good things must come to an end. And sadly, no further relationship was discussed and no feelings were revealed - I am not one for sappy relationship conversations and in fact, I try to avoid them at all costs. What would be the point anyway? He lives in Boston. I live in London. And also, I have to admit there was still a little bit of awkwardness surrounding the fact that I was essentially still "just his friend's sister." So, when he shut the door to go and catch his plane, I turned back to my empty apartment to face the harsh reality that my fun fling with the Hot American was over. I hate to admit it, but I felt really sad when he left and I kind of miss him...

I guess it's back to good old Match.com for me.

Don't Let Your Friends Set You Up!

One of the many 'joys' of being single is that your friends often try too hook you up with men they think are "perfect for you!"

My Swedish girlfriend had been trying to set up her colleague and I for a long time. She would always tell me how "perfect" he was for me. In fact, we had actually met each other a few times but each time one of us had been with someone else. He was someone who on at least on paper seemed good for me: tall, moderately handsome, Swedish (I love those Swedish men), good career, smart, motivated, hard working, and well traveled and in fact really into adventure travel... For the sake of this post, let's call him the Swedish Adventurer.

Anyway, on a trip back to Sweden, I randomly met up with the Swedish Adventurer and we found that for once we were both single and also were needless to say quite intoxicated at this point of the night. This realization of course encouraged a drunken make out sesssion in a stairwell while our even more drunk friends waited for us at McDonalds - Classy - I know). Despite our drunken state we did manage to talk about him coming to visit me in London.

Maybe it was the alcohol (blame it on the.... ok enough). Or maybe it's because my friend had been encouraging us for ages, but mostly I think I just WANTED to be interested in him. I wanted to be interested in anyone BUT the Beautiful Swede (who I was actually in Stockholm to see). But if I had been really honest with myself, I would have had to admit that our chemistry didn't feel right.

But I selfishly went ahead with the idea of using the Swedish Adventurer to get over my Ex and I continued with an actual delusional hope that maybe he was the one. And right before Christmas-time, just a couple weeks after that Swedish trip, the Swedish Adventurer came to London to visit for the weekend.

I was actually excited for his visit. The first night we had a great dinner and good conversation - I could definitely see why my friend thought we would be a good match. But something just didn't feel right, there was really no chemistry and I again had the feeling that this just wasn't the guy for me. This was confirmed the following day when I realized that his idea of a "fun afternoon" in London was to spend it SHOPPING. Ok. I do not like to shop. I like to have new things (often) and this causes me to need to shop (frequently) but I honestly don't enjoy shopping.

My rules for shopping go something like this:

• always shop alone


• never spend more than an hour shopping


• only shop if it's necessary


• never shop if there is something better to do

Therefore, I tend to limit my shopping to lunch time runs. Being dragged around London shopping with a guy was NOT fun. Especially since he wanted to go to record shops and men's clothing shops. I was BORED out of my mind. After a polite amount of time standing around trying to pretend I was having fun, I attempted to excuse myself (I was having a small Christmas party that evening and I really wanted to get home and prepare) but this guy did the typical girl shopping thing: "just 5 more mins, I promise and we can leave together..." I was hoping that he would come with me so I could get him to carry some groceries from the store. So, I sucked it up and waited for TWO MORE HOURS for him standing outside the store in the cold.

Finally we headed back home and right before we got to the grocery store, he ran off into ANOTHER store to just "have a look." So, I ended up carrying all the alcohol and groceries by myself anyway. Amazingly I managed not to turn this into an argument. Unusual for me. I guess I really did want this to work out...

The other notable event of the weekend involved a fish bone. That's right. A fish bone. Before his flight, we went to the pub for a traditional British dish of Fish and chips. And the guy chokes on a fish bone! Ok seriously, this guy is into adventure travel and has pictures of himself standing next to lions and stories about all kinds of crazy adventures in Africa and other places, and he manages to get a fish bone stuck in his throat and almost die in a pub in London (ok I don't think he was near dying but there was a actual discussion of whether or not going to the hospital was necessary)! If you have never seen someone choke on a fish bone let me tell you, it's not a pretty site. There he was coughing, choking, turning red, making loud gagging sounds, spitting and generally disrupting everyone else in the pub. I was verging between trying no to laugh, being embarrassed, losing my apptite, being concerned, and just being ready for him to leave. He finally coughed up the fish bone and then caught his flight.

But it was the second visit that turned catastrophic. I really didn't have any feelings for him but I when he sprung the second visit on me, I was feeling a bit down over my Ex - the Beautiful Swede - so in a moment of weakness I told him "yes" as I thought it would at least distract me a bit and if nothing else, at least we could be friends. By the time the trip actually came up, I realized that I could have done a good enough job distracting myself with the many men in London. I also realized that I really didn't want anything romantic with him and there was definitely going to be any physical intimacy between us (not that there had been much the first time anyway).

But I didn't have to worry about him trying to put the moves on me and me having to reject him because I was saved by the violent puking sickness. One minute he was fine and drinking champagne with my friend and I before we were to go to a club, the next minute he was puking his brains out. My friend and I being the sympathetic people we are went out with out him and had a blast meeiting other men.

I tried to feel bad for him, but I couldn't. Men are big babies when they are sick and having him moping about in my apartment all weekend was a real buzz kill - especially when I had a massive hangover and all I wanted to do was mope around on my couch without a pukey germy guy sitting next to me. I was also extremely worried about getting sick myself, I had a huge week at work the next week with a product launch that I'd been working around the clock to help pull off. This was not the week for me to be sick - the puking sickness is contagious in the extreme. So,I counted the hours until he left and shut the door behind him with a huge sigh of relief. I don't think I will be seeing him again. And I definitely don't hold it against my friend who set us up - she only had good intentions. But I think I will be very careful before throwing myself into another weekend with a man I hardly know. Famous. Last. Words.

Lessons learned

• Always go with your gut instinct when it comes to men


• If it didn't work out the first time, don't give it a second chance


• Don't make a first (or second date) with someone into an entire weekend - WAY too risky


• If you don't like to shop, don't date men who LOVE to shop


• Eat fish and chips very carefully and check for fish bones


• If a fish bone does get stuck in your throat, eat bread


• Sometimes, men just look better on paper


• Don't let your friends set you up

Getting Back on the Dating Horse

So. When you fall off the horse, you're supposed to get right back on, right? But I thought I would take the old adage to heart and try to get right back up there. Well, easier said than done when it comes to dating.

I will admit that as soon as the Ex and I broke up, I signed up for Match.com and started to look for hot, tall, single men in London. I will also admit that I was not a complete stranger -or virgin, if you will - to Internet dating. In fact, I actually met the Beautiful Swede via a Swedish Internet dating site (Thanks Spray Date). So... with approximately 5 Internet dates in total under my belt, with the last one resulting in a year plus relationship, I decided to venture back into the big bad world of Internet dating.

The first guy I met - Busy Boy - who is only worth noting for the fact that his incessant questioning about what I did "for fun" outside of work and how I "released my creativeness" made me realize just how sad my life had become. What did I do outside of work? Who was I? Where in the world had I managed to loose myself? This guy had a serious job plus several serious things going on outside of work. He was actually really interesting but I left him wondering how in the world he found time for all the things he claimed to be into. In my own defense, I had just moved to London (rather unwillingly for my job) just a couple weeks before and I was having a tough time. Work/Life balance for me didn't exist and probably hadn't for the last year. I was feeling pretty low. But maybe this date was exactly what I needed to realize just how much I had lost myself in the Stockholm to London shuffle. I found myself thinking a lot about what I was doing. When did I stop doing the things that made me me... like reading, writing, throwing parties, hanging out with friends, singing... When did I stop having fun and start working all the time? Was a career woman all I was destined to be? Is this what I want my life to look like in 10 years? I realized that before I could seriously start dating, I needed to get back in touch with myself! So, I think the Busy Boy for starting me off on the soul searching that in turn led me to once again start writing which has now resulted in this blog.

The second guy I met - The Investment Banker - is most noteworthy for being the world's shortest dinner date. We met and we ate dinner in under ONE HOUR! I'm not even sure how that's possible. The hard thing about Internet dates is they are basically a blind date. You are meeting a STRANGER! And if that isn't intimidating enough, you are often meeting them after a looong and sometimes a very bad day at work. This is what happened the day I met the Investment Banker. I had a terrible day. So so terrible, that I thought a lot about cancelling but didn't want to be rude. So, I went to the date anyway. I can't say it was terrible. In fact, he was extremely good looking but very very boring in that Investment Banker sort of way. But he the date was terribly short. However, as I look past at most of my last dates... well it unfortunately ranks somewhere near the top. Short and Sweet is not necessarily a bad thing!

So, I'm offically back on the horse, but I'm not exactly sure that we are moving anywhere yet!