Wednesday, 27 October 2010

Cilla Black never prepared me for such a bad blind date.

I guess a date could never start out right when the man involved texts you around half an hour before about the fact that he didn't realise you were ginger. But I'm afraid it was too late for this poor sucker to get out of the date, as he was already on the train.

A few weeks ago, I left my number on the bill and gave it to the waiter at a restaurant I visited. Never expecting a text, or any form of communication, me and my mum laughed about it for a good few hours. Until I got a text and I was absolutley flabbergasted ( <-- I love that word). And a week later, it turned out that I had a date.

As my mum pulled up at the train station, I couldn't exactly remember what he looked like, apart from the fact I knew he was fit. Which left me staring at the boy who had been waiting for me for half an hour, trying to work out whether I could of pulled something who was that unbelievably gorgeous. So I hid myself round the corner and acted shocked as he said my name (And even after 10 or more years of acting classes I still couldn't act the right amount of shocked and, as I recall my face must of looked like he had just shot a kitten).

As he had never visited my area, I agreed to 'show him the city', which only really sounds good when your living in a film in New York. And after 20 minutes of nervous conversation on my part, I had shown him 'the city'. At which point we decided to go to the cinema. But OH NO! my life is such a failure that we ended up seeing some French film, which was based on the animated characters from the Cravendale Milk adverts.

At this point you would think that things couldn't get any better. You'd be wrong. ( But you would be right to detect sarcasm)
After 75 minutes of painful watching, and not evan a cheeky yawn/arm round me, I had already given up hope of ever being able to talk in a sane way to him, and we walked back to the train station. It actually got slightly better, we had a conversation, and I felt a little more at ease.
Then it came to the goodbye. The worst part of any date, and this was the worst date in history!
It involved him going into the train station and me getting into a taxi. My exact words were 'Ermm, Im gonna get that taxi. Thankyou' and with a half-hearted hug, he said something along the lines of it being 'good'. A lie, if I ever did hear one. And I got into a taxi and never looked back at him and I sobbed, to which the taxi driver asked what was a matter, and I replied 'My dog has been run over'
I have never had a dog. I have no idea where that came from. But that excuse sounded alot better to me than admitting my failure as a woman.

As it goes I really dont know what the hell happened to me. I was faced with an absolutley gorgeous lad, with a really sexy accent, and I couldn't string two words together that didn't make me sound like an absolute wierdo. He was absolutley lovely. I wasn't myself at all. All my outgoing personality got locked up in a box inside me, and all the way throughout the date, was kicking and screaming to come out.

And now, whilst drowning my sorrows, it's made me think: why do our personalities change around certain people? Why do someones looks determine how we treat them, and act around them? And why is it when faced with everything you want, something happens for you too throw it all away.

As it goes, it probably wasn't meant to be. I mean I would love to be able to wipe the slate clean with him, so I could be myself, if I was too ever see him again. But as I have now deleted his number, it is totally in his hands. Something of which I am alot more comfortable with.

Ahh well it wasn't all bad to be honest, as he started out by complimenting me on my blogs, which for me, makes me happier than anyone ever saying I look nice, or even falling in love.

Sunday, 24 October 2010


Around a month ago I was using the computer at the gym and found that a man had not logged out of his Facebook. The first thought that came to my head was that I could do some serious Facebook rape here, and if it were any of my friends I would of. But I then thought of the amount of power that I had right in front of me. It may sound like an exageration, but I actually had the power to seriously alter, or ruin someones life.
Other than the standard status update of 'I AM COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET, FINALLY', there are some serious things I could do. Maybe sending private messages to friends and saying awful things on chat to family members. And thinking about this made me really scared.
How much power do we have to potentially ruin someones life?
If I had taken the full opputunity of being logged onto someone elses Facebook, I could of possibly ruined his social, work and family life, right there on the Internet.

But in every day life, what we say about someone could change someones life.
What you may think of as a harmless little rumor could knock someones self-esteem or change their friendships and potential friendships.
As a girl I've had lots of rumors made about me, and countless people gossiping about what I get up to, but do people ever realise how much it hurts?
I wish I was one of those people that could turn round and say 'I dont care what people say about me' but I'm not because I dont think anyone can truly say that. Even when I'm driving and someone pips at me, I worry because they think badly of me, which I admit is a little bit strange.
Just think about the last time you heard a horrible rumor that had gone round about yourself, you were hurt right?
But just how often, when passing on some gossip about someone else, do think about how hurt you would be?
How often do you think about how crap that person feels knowing that everyone is talking and laughing about the mistake they made?
That person you may be laughing about is a person just like you. And they will have to live with knowing that everyone knows about perhaps a split second wrong decision that they made. Because you would feel pretty crap aswell, you know you would.
Im no angel, and I would like to meet someone who could truthfully put there hand and say they have never passed on a rumor about someone. And granted, there are some people, who have done horrible things to me, so much so that I feel morally obliged to pass rumors on about them. But maybe next time when you hear a rumor about someone, think how crap you would feel if that rumor was about you. And, as Chezza Cole said last night, just because someones life may seem like a circus, its still there life, and it shouldn't be your entertainment.

But if the rumor is really funny, it's fine. :)


Wednesday, 20 October 2010

Old People & Bingo

As human beings we are quick to pick up on other peoples faults. The things that annoy us about other people, and make us angry, also things that we dont agree with and we wouldn't do ourselves.
But have you ever thought of what other people think YOUR faults are? Whether you talk about yourself to much, your always late or that you are really lazy?

There are two types of people on this earth: people who critisise themselves too much and people who critisise others too much.

I know I critisise myself too much. I lay awake at night unable to sleep, regretting little things I have said and whether people have taken things the wrong way, and what the subsequently think of me.
I also know people who critisise others so much that they dont seem to see there own faults. Sometimes it's a little bit like they are calling someone fat when they themselves are 10 stone overweight, or calling someone vain whilst checking themselves out in a shop window.
People like this make me want to scream!

The worst people for it are pensioners. Now I'm not being ageist, but what is it about old people and critisising others? My theory is that they have so much time to sit and think about people, and maybe they regret the things they didn't do when they were young, so there maybe abit of jelous.
But the other day I was helping out at an old peoples Bingo night and I met a lovely lady, who, when asked what perfume she was wearing answered 'Oh, Britney Spears'. Now this old lady was sat next to me and said something really inspirational to me. She said 'Whats the point in being miserable? It means your not enjoying your life, and evan though I'm nearly over the hill, I still have a good laugh'. Now if more people thought like that, the world would be a better place. Because she's right, why are we critisising others and ourselves when we could just move on and be happy. There are always going to be things that annoy us and make us angry about others. But who are WE to make others upset? And who are WE to make others feel like crap?

What that little, feisty old lady said and believed made me, more than ever want to have a happy and exciting life, so that when I'm old, I will lots of stories to tell instead of complaining and critisising. And trust me that old lady had alot of stories to tell, that are not are not fit to repeat!

If you don't have anything good to say, don't say anything at all.

Now thats over and done with, I would like to apoligise for the lack of blogs recently.
But hopefully I'm now back to filling you in on my very chaotic way of thinking.

And as always, thankyou very much to absolutly anyone who reads my blogs, it means an awful lot :)