The Homes of Donegal

I have a substance abuse problem, my substance of choice is Irishmen. Southern or Northern, Dark haired or Ginger, I love them all.

I've always had a thing about accents, and men who play musical instruments, this usually encompasses my love of the Irishman very well.

Not much makes me go weak at the knees these days, but an Irish accent can do it. My grandmother is Irish so I have some family history there, I was brought up listening to the great Irish musicians and still love the musical influences to this day.

On St Patricks day I met a young man from Donegal, I say young - he is 27, I'm not a cougar. We never ended up going out and getting a drink due to family matters. You may remember me saying he was very sweet and understanding about this.

Last night he sent me a text, nothing pushy, just asking how I have been and what I have been up to. We talked about where we want to travel and general life stuff.

He seems like a really nice guy, sweet, considerate and nice to talk to. The only downside (or potential downside) is that I cannot for the life of me remember what he looks like, I've got a vague idea and I must have liked him enough in my St Pat's stupor to give him my number.

So, seeing as he took the time to text me a month after meeting, and still remained friendly and polite (None of those- so are we going out or what - type messages) I text him to see if he would like to pop out for a drink on Monday.

This is despite the fact that I really have had it with dating, and I find it really hard to get excited about going out with someone these days. Still I'm going to try and do what I always do and go into the date hopeful and not negative. Its all to easy to assume (at least for me) that the date is going to be tragic.

Why did I not invite him out this weekend? Well that would be because I am going to Manchester to see my dearest friends, Bodger and Badger. I am really excited, I just cant wait! They are the kind of friends that make your cheeks and ribs ache from laughing. I love them to bits.

And if things don't go well with Donegal I am in Ireland for a week from 4th May, forget leprechaun hunting, this is man hunting!

I met my love,
By the gas works wall.
Dreamed a dream,
By the old canal.
I kissed my girl,
By the factory wall.
Dirty old town,
Dirty old town.

Love
SG
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Boston

God bless all those in Boston affected by today's events, remember those all over the world who are faced with these types of crimes everyday, please God hold them in your heart.

It's very hard to explain how something like this affects a city, silences it for a time, despite the noise of the sirens. To those who love a place dearly, it can make the streets which once felt like home, feel like a strange and dangerous place.

Whilst that fades with time it must never forgotten that, on a day like today, lives, relationships, families and generations to come have all been changed forever.

Boston I am praying for you.

Love
SG
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Ben the two of us need look no more...

I once had a friend called Ben, Ben was single, gay, stylish and fun. I forget how we even met but we clicked and hit it off. We started meeting up regularly and he quickly became very dear to me.

About 9 months into our friendship I went to his birthday party and met one of his friends, a totally gorgeous guy who I subsequently spent the next five years in a relationship with.

When we got our first flat Ben was always there, we were a three, we went pretty much everywhere together and, as much as me and my ex enjoyed being together, we never got tired of Ben being around us as a couple.

The ex and I broke up eventually. We’d moved again and in the end we both ended up at my mother’s house, supposedly as a temporary measure. We were there for ages and for various reasons we split.

It was awful and gut wrenching but he packed his things and left. As it was my decision to end the relationship I didn’t tell anyone we had split, didn’t use Facebook to advertise my new status. I just left it but I presumed he had told Ben.

I heard nothing from Ben. I presumed he had been told but I didn’t know for sure. Ben and I usually spoke on a weekly basis at the minimum but time passed, my ex unfriended me on Facebook as did some of his family and friends, so the news had broken. But still I heard nothing from Ben.

A few weeks later I got a message from Ben asking if I was ok, I replied that I was and enquired as to how my ex was doing. Ben said that he hadn’t been in touch because he hadn’t known what to say and to be honest, at the time, I really felt for him. What a difficult spot to be in.  

I didn’t hear from him after that for a long time, and in that time I had met someone new. Ben would have known this because we were still friends on Facebook.

Around the time of my birthday, 6 months after my split I got a message from Ben asking me to meet up with him for a birthday drink. I said I would love to as I was staying at my mums that weekend (I’d moved out again by this point) but, I explained, my new boyfriend was staying there with me and I couldn’t very well leave him in the house alone so if he wanted to meet up, would he be happy to meet him.

No, he said, he wouldn’t meet him, it was out of the question. So we never did meet up.  

Fast forward to Christmas and Ben must be feeling sentimental because again I get a text saying that it has been too long and we should really meet up this time. I lightheartedly reply and say that we should actually do it and not just say it, that I am free any day of the following week and where should I meet him?

I then hear nothing.

A few months later he does the same thing, my new fella and I had by then broken up and I thought perhaps that’s why he felt he could now meet up.

I had all but forgotten about him until my birthday this year on 25^th March when I get a text, again he wants to meet up. Now call me an eternal optimist but when I replied thanking him for the birthday wishes and explaining that my late reply was due to a personal issue that happened recently. When he suggested meeting for a drink I figured it was more to do with what had happened to my family recently than my actual birthday. I guessed that hearing any kind of bad news made him realise that life really is too short and if you had a friendship as deep as ours was perhaps it is worth seeing if that’s still there.

That’s what I guessed anyway.

So we arranged to meet this week and I was genuinely looking forward to it, having been at a low ebb it would have been so nice to see him, I felt a bit emotional about it, no matter what happens your true friends, even those you haven’t seen for years, will be there for you.

Or they will just fail to text you again. The night we were supposed to be meeting came and went without a word. I didn’t text him because;

a. I am stubborn

b. I have been here before.

Ben still hasn’t text me a week on and I’m stuck between texting him telling him not to bother suggesting meeting up again or simply leaving it until the next time in 9 months’ time when he asks me and tell him no.

I can’t imagine why he keeps suggesting meeting up if he has no intention of seeing me. Perhaps he just likes to know that I would still be willing to meet him and once I say yes that’s his curiosity satisfied. I don’t know.

If anyone has any advice on what I should do, feel free to email me: single.girl.london2012@gmail.com

Relationships whether between a boyfriend or a best friend don’t always stand the test of time, and it’s always sad, but this recent stunt has made me realise that a true friend, even one you haven’t spoken to in the longest time, would be there for you in trying times like these. The fact that he played me at a time like this is more hurtful than all of the let downs before.

Ben the two of us need talk no more….

Love

SG

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Double Click Prick Comp

Many thanks to Carly Casanova for this hilarious entry into the Double Click Prick hall of fame...

As soon as I read your contest, this message immediately came to mind.
Came to me on plentyoffish.com!

"So this may be a bit more awesome then a dick pic.

So I've been creeping on your profile for the last week or so, masturbating with my own tears whilst eating Ben and Jerry's. But last night I had a dream of us. Then it took a sour turn when we got in a huge fight. No sense crying over spilt milk, but I insisted that our money tree house would have looked much better without the sex dungeon add on, but you just had to have your way. Anywho, I woke up before we finished the divorce papers. I just want to say you can keep the cabin in the gumdrop mountains but I want the Pegasus chariot and my tv back."


Carly

Whilst it is true than when internet dating you need to send a message that will stand out from the "Hi Sexy Lady how r u?" messages, men can take this too far, as the above proves.

However light-hearted this message may have been intended I'm not sure it's author realised just how off-putting talking about shaking your man junk is.

No one wants the image of a man, face screwed up in concentration and ecstasy, tugging on his own meat before the first date.

Words that should be left out of opening emails, from my own and others experiences, in no particular order:

Sniff
Dungeon
Masturbating
Odour
Vagina/Penis
Choke
Musty
Cum

Yes these are actual examples.

Carly's blog is very good and well worth a read! Link below:

http://carlyandcasanova.blogspot.co.uk/

Keep Smiling
Love
SG
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The Colour Purple

I’d been chatting to a guy online for a few weeks. He was one of the rare men I had spoken to online who could actually work up to banter and not just banal messaging. It seemed really promising.

He was into all the usual guy stuff, he was really into racing (even raced cars in his spare time) He worked in London and was really funny and humorous via text.

We text each other for about a week throughout the evenings leading up to the date, around 50 messages a night, that’s the kind of banter I love, when you can chat about random rubbish with someone.

One thing which really made me laugh was his name, not Gary or Bob or Steve but…Tarquin. WHO CALLS THEIR CHILD TARQUIN?! – Even my spell check doesn’t like it.

Holborn, 7pm

I waited outside the coffee shop where we had agreed to meet for what seemed like an age, I went up to a man who vaguely looked like my date but it wasn’t him. Never walk up to a stranger and say “Are you Tarquin?!” you just get funny looks!

Eventually I called Tarquin to see where he was, after all I’ve been stood up twice in the last 10 months and I wasn’t about to be stood up again without giving a piece of my mind. We had arranged to meet at the coffee shop outside the station, which incidentally is a costa coffee shop, he had actually said “meet me at the Café Nero outside the station” but I thought he had made a mistake.

To cut a long story short it turns out he was not waiting at the station coffee shop as he said but up-the road-and-round-the-corner at the actual location of Café Nero. So once we sorted that little misunderstanding out we went for a drink.

Due to the dire weather and the fact that I was now freezing, having been waiting around, I suggested we dive into the nearest pub, which incidentally is the same one myself and a fellow blogger frequented on his trip to London. Sadly I didn’t have as much fun this time round.

 We grabbed a couple of glasses of wine and settled down in a corner. Looks wise he wasn’t dissimilar to his photos. Although it was now clear that they were taken a few years ago. He had made such a fuss about going home and getting changed and yet he turned up looking a little well worn. That’s the only way to describe it. His jumper (whilst clearly his best one as it had a distinctive label) was bobbly and his jeans a little too well loved.

But those materialistic things aside the banter that had once been now died a death. After we had talked about work and where we lived there was silence. Tarquin chose to fill it about as well as pinky finger in a prostitute.

“What’s your favourite colour?”   

Well since no one has asked me that since I was about 7 years old it actually threw me a bit, so I said I didn’t know.

“Everyone has a favourite colour, come on!” he said

OK, Who are you the fucking colour police?! So I said purple just to shut him up.  

“Oh that’s my favourite to….” (Eh?) and so began a long an arduous tale about how he likes the colour purple and how he has so much purple in his wardrobe that the girls at work set him a challenge, to wear purple for the entire week. So he did… I know riveting isn’t it?

After a while of talking about purple and me downing as much pink wine as I could without seeming like a raging alcoholic I asked him about his latest work projects.

Note – People who do the following really piss me off, to explain…

Tarquin worked in IT and more specifically website design. So upon asking him about his latest project he said he couldn’t tell me about it.

Was he secretly working for MI5? Was he really Batman?

“But” he said “I can tell you that it is an energy drinks company that will give you wings”

Well blow me down with a feather I don’t think I have ever heard anything so exciting that you can’t say the words Red Bull without some sort of thinly veiled clue system.

I once went on a date with a barrister who told me he couldn’t tell me about the case he was working on but…and then he went on to tell me the details of the case which was so high profile you would have had to be living on the moon not to have heard of it.

So when I guessed, not that it was difficult as the people at the next table and the waiter knew who he was talking about, he said that he could discuss it now only because I’d guessed.

I hate people that do this. It just shrieks of self-importance. I know its not a big thing but it is a really oet hate of mine. To people that do this I say this…The only person who finds your job exciting is you, unless you’re the fucking Stig.

Aside from those little annoyances the main problem with Tarquin is that he was just not sexy to me, I am sure to someone else he would be but to me he was a cross between the guy from The Undateables (the one with Asperger’s) and Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory.

Bless his purple cotton socks!

So I have now (finally) persuaded sister single to come speed dating as she has been promising me for some time.

And there is a potential date with someone who I met on St Patricks day but due to personal circumstances I haven’t been out with yet, although he sent me a very sweet message when I explained why I wouldn’t be meeting up with him for a while. Perhaps he could be a good egg?

Until next time

Love

SG

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