A Swarm of Butterflies

Recently, I’ve being doing a lot of tooth tapping with my pencil and sorting out my sock drawer once too often. As a result, I’ve decided to once again risk my sanity and dip my finger back into the world of Match.com. But before I do so I thought I’d share with you a time when I had my first major crush on someone.

My crush wasn’t based on some scantily clad poster girl, although Samantha Fox did feature as a fixture on my bedroom wall, but it was a girl I met at college way back in 1988 during my second and final year on a computer course. It was a dizzy time of music from the likes of Bananarama, INXS, Bros and Morris Minor and the Majors. And a girl we’ll simply call ‘L’.

I’d just returned from a two week holiday and, as a person who tans by simply looking at the sun, I was rather tanned. And when I mean tanned, I mean tanned. Need less to say, my reappearance at college caused a bit of a stir amongst the ladies. Unfortunately, when I mean ladies, it was the dinner ladies in the canteen. They fussed over me like I was their child and, much to my embarrassment, insisted on examining my bronzed chest and stomach at every opportunity. It wasn’t quite the result I’d been hoping for - although 'L' nudged my friend and started to ask about me.

‘L’ was the friend of one my friends on my college course and she’d just started her first year. He'd known her from school so, not yet knowing any one, she tagged along with our group. She soon became part of the group and as ‘L’ and I chatted I came to realise that there was this rather strange feeling in my stomach. And it wasn't the pasta I'd had for lunch. I’d had butterflies before, but this was something completely different – this was a swarm of butterflies - and I felt sick and dizzy in her presence. Was it more than just a simple crush?

So, one evening, I got a surprise phone call from ‘L’ – which was a little odd as I’d never knowingly given her my phone number (yes, yes, I know these things now…) so she must have asked someone for it. It all sounded promising and I sensed that this would be the ideal opportunity to see if she wanted to meet up - so I asked.

She said “Yes”, and that it would be a good idea. But there was a major, major snag. She needed my help to get someone she quite fancied to notice her and see if he’d like to go out. I was simply going to be a ruse in an elaborate sting operation. That funny feeling in my stomach stopped instantly and I’m sure my heart stopped beating before a thundering beat rattled my ribcage and brought me back to life. It was almost as if time stood still for a moment before everything faded back in again.

So, with me being the dumbest person on the planet, I agreed to help. Naturally, he quite fancied her too and that was the end of that and as far as I know they were still together when I finished college. I'm not even sure if they got married.

I often wonder whether she really knew how I felt about her – and I still kick myself for not asking her out sooner (although she obviously had serious eyes for someone else). It was also an event I vowed would never happen to me again. I also said that the second time it happened to me – but that’s story for another day...

Inanimate Emotions

Having managed to get myself a new job – a job I’m still in shock about getting – and giving Match.com a bit of a rest, I’ve had very little to blog about. Even so, it’s not stopped me thinking about things or reading other peoples blogs.

And in one such blog, Alwaysd bemoaned the fact that men don’t show their emotions or explain their feelings enough. Now that got me thinking about the last time I showed emotion – after all, it’s not the manly thing to do and goes against the grain of the great British stiff upper lip. I then remembered what it was, and it wasn’t being dumped by a girlfriend (I’m too well hardened for this) or the death of a much loved pet, but something far more inanimate than that.

Having worked in London for a few years I use to see, and more appropriately – hear, the daily departure of Concorde on its way to New York. And, boy, what a sight it was to behold. On one occasion she banked over Windsor Castle and, although I didn’t have a camera on me at the time, it is an image that is permanently engraved in my mind. It was also a sight that stopped numerous American and Japanese tourists in their tracks as they excitedly pointed at the magnificent sight.

So it was on the 24th October 2003, as I watched Concorde taxi around Heathrow airport before being finally retired from service, that a tear rolled down my face. Not only was I proud of the British (and French) technology that let her fly, but I also realised that my ambition of flying on Concorde would never be attained. The only place I’d see her now would be in a museum.

So call me what you like, but I guess I’m just your typical male with emotions in all the wrong places – that is until a future girlfriend announces that she’s pregnant or my resultant offspring calls me “daddy”...

Pandora's Box

Never let it be said I don't share my discoveries with you, but I've found a totally wonderful music service called Pandora.

It's a web based Internet music station with a difference - a music discovery service designed to help you find and enjoy music that you'll love. Type in an artist and it will not only play their tracks, but it will also tempt you with similar styled music. Try it, you may find it interesting - and what's more - it's free!!

However, to get the full benefit of the service you need to live in the USA. Their subscription service looks a bit of a bargain too - although you can pretty much guarantee that if it ever makes across the pond to the UK (which I hope it does) that the fees will be a factor of ten more expensive.

VxIAGRA

E-mail SPAM. Don’t you just hate it? I mean, just what the hell is the point of it all? And what's more - does anybody actually read the daily crap that arrives in their in-box?

The Internet is literally awash with the annoying stuff and it makes up nearly 90% of all e-mail traffic. And that’s a lot of e-mails. How many people actually receive this crap and then think “Ooooh, yes, I’ve run out of my little blue pills so I’ll order some more from this mysterious overseas company that can’t even spell their product name correctly”.

And when you’re not being inundated with e-mail for medicines to assist in your apparently troublesome erection problems, you’re being bombarded with crap about “hot stock tips”. Again, you’re naturally going to take the risk and spend thousands of pounds on shares from a hot e-mail tip with a subject line of “Re: Your Trousers”.

It’s at times like these I actually believe that charging people 1 pence (or cent) per e-mail will kill off this tide of crap overnight – and make some money for the ISP from genuine e-mail traffic too. The Internet may even manage run a little faster than an asthmatic steam engine.

Shock and Awe

I generally try to avoid the use of profanities in my blog so you’ll need to cover your ears for a just a small moment whilst I get something off my chest….

Shit, shit, shit and, what’s more, fuck, fuck and fuck – I’ve only been bloody offered the job! I got a phone call from the agency bloke this morning who was all excited about the feedback from my interview and wanted to know whether he should push “our corner”. Naturally, I agreed and within about ten minutes he’d rung me back to say that the job was mine. I think my first words to him were “Bloody hell!” I’m just glad I was sat down at the time, otherwise I’m sure I would have keeled over.

But since nice things never happen to me, I then spent the rest of the day wandering around in total bewilderment and waiting for a phone call to tell me it was all a big mistake or having a mate laughing down the phone shouting “April Fool!” But then I realised that it was August, so I then thought that it could all be some sort of crank radio call or television programme set up. It was only once I’d received an e-mail with a document for me to sign and return that it finally started to sink in.

It will be really hard to leave my work mates but, since others have already moved on to bigger and brighter things, I don’t see why I should be denied what is most likely to be my last big career push too. Still, I’m going to make damn sure I keep in touch with them.

So, I’ve finally got a blog entry with some good news for a change. It’s only taken me about three years to get this far. I just wonder how long it will take me to find my soul mate too?

The Analysis

Well it was my interview today. I didn’t struggle to answer any questions and there were three guys there instead of two (and no HR manager either). The bizarre thing is though, I can’t decide whether it went really well or just plain OK. It’s really hard to judge – even if they did repeat that they were impressed with my CV and test results.

I know for a fact from the agency that the company in question is very picky about who they employ. As a result, I was rather surprised to discover that there was no HR representative in the interview (as I’d been told to expect) or was there the usual tour of the facilities. Puzzling indeed.

I was also the second of the two interviewees – and the first one was running a little late which resulted in me waiting for a while. Did the lack of tour and HR person mean that they’d already made their decision – especially since I’m certain I saw the other candidate having a tour? But there’s a twist too – upon saying my goodbyes, one of the interviewers said “See you again”. Was he being polite, or did he know something I didn’t?

So I’ll just have to wait now – I usually wait seven days before abandoning hope. I’ve given my feed back to the agency and, as is usual for a job agency, I’ve not heard anything back about my interview. Still, they could be still making their minds up or, as tends to be the case with the agencies, you’re soon dumped if you’re not their man.

Never the less, keep those toes crossed!

The Trouble With Cushions

You can always tell when a bloke has become settled into a relationship.

I guess the little kiddie causing chaos is a fair sign of such things, but whilst staying with my best friend who likes nothing more than buying DVDs and then watching them at high volume through his A/V system, I was struck with the number of cushions in his house. However, rather oddly, I actually think they are invisible to him and he’s totally unaware of their existence.

They were breeding like Tribbles and could be found all over his house – even morphing into strange cuddly creatures that looked remarkably like furry animals – seals in particular.

Their focal breeding point appeared to be the guest bedroom where it took me a full ten minutes to remove the said furry mass from the bed before I then spent an uncomfortable nights sleep surrounded by various creatures peering at me from out of the darkness. Oh, that and a cat which proceeded to take up half the bed, purr loudly and then leave half me with half of its hair on the duvet cover.

Any ideas as to where these breeding blighters came from would be greatly appreciated. Oh, and I'm assuming it's not the cat.

Shiny Shoes

Yikes! My interview is tomorrow!

I’ve been reading up on the company, making sure my suit still fits (not worn it for a while – and it’s now a little tight!) and I’ve spoken to the agency guy about what’s happening. I just need to give my shoes a bit of a spit-n-polish.

All I’ve got to do is remain calm and positive and treat it like just another design meeting. Still, it doesn’t help that I’ve learnt that there’s only one other candidate whilst ten other people didn’t even get as far as the interview! Oh, and there’s more tests to come (how wrong I was about no more tests!)

Next up are some test scenarios in a number of programming languages to see what I’d do next. Hopefully, it is just to test my analytical skills, but the worse part of it all is that the HR manager will also be in the interview and asking questions such as "What's your favourite colour?" and "Can you please pee into this cup".

She'll also be on the look out for any sign of weaknesses - such as beads of sweat on my brow or the evidence of facial tics. I just wonder whether they’ll be holding the interview in Room 101. Ah, there's nothing like putting my mind at rest!

Still, it’s got to be there for the taking and it’s all or nothing. I just hope it’s one and not the other...

Keeping Those Toes Crossed

Well, the recruitment agency rang me back today – and with good news too! The guy at the company was extremely impressed (his words, not mine) with both my CV and on-line results and I’m currently way out in front of the other prospective candidates. As a result, I’ve been asked in for an interview next week. In fact, the guy wanted to see me ASAP in order to give me a tour of the office and explain more about what they do.

I’ve always hated tests, but I feel that the technical part of things has now been dealt with and this interview will be more of a personality test. Still, there’s absolutely no way I’m going to be complacent here – nor even start to believe that this one is in the bag. Never the less, the vibes do feel good this time, and I’m going to try and use the many valuable lessons learnt from previous interviews to good effect.

Even if I fail to get the job it’s still been a real confidence boost and helped replenish my glass somewhat. With the lack of success with my job hunting and attempts on Match.com over the past six months I’ve been really struggling to stay positive. With this, and along with additional stresses at both work and home, it’s fair to say that my health has been suffering somewhat too. This is just the tonic I need.

Anyway, thanks for all your good luck wishes (they honestly really do help) and I’ll let you know how I get on next week. In the meantime, I’m sure I’ll have something to rant about over the weekend.

Someone May Have Turned the Lights Back On

Given that I’ve recently been applying for jobs left, right and centre without success, I was beginning to think that the light at the end of my job searching tunnel may well have been turned off.

However, right out of the blue, a job agency rang me today to see if I was interested in a job programming in the e-commerce sector. It all sounded interesting, the salary is good, and the guy praised both the company and it’s employees. I almost asked him whether he’d actually called the right number. After all, these sort of things never happen to me.

But as is usually case with me, there was a catch. Never the less, it wasn’t really that unexpected as, if I was interested in the role, I had to do an on-line technical test. They are getting more and more common these days and it’s only to check if you actually know what you're talking about and you’re not actually a burger flipper at McDonalds (no insult intended there for those valuable guys).

So I did the test, and then I surprised myself with the on-line results. Rather oddly, I actually appear to know what I’m taking about. In fact, I appear to know a lot more than I originally thought – although there was one area that I wasn’t too happy with my score. Still, I can’t complain too much as one of my test scores was the highest amongst similar test takers. Blimey.

All I now need to do is wait for a call back from the agency tomorrow to see whether they think it’s worth while forwarding my CV to the prospective company. So fingers crossed, it will be, and toes crossed, if an interview is forthcoming, I don’t go and screw it up!

Mother Nature is Flawed

Everything around us in nature seems to serve a purpose in the big thing known as the circle of life. The rain falls, the sun shines, the lush green grass grows (when there’s not a hose pipe ban), the cows eat the grass, man eats the cow and man then screws up the planet. However, would somebody please tell me what part the bloody wasp has to do with anything? I mean, apart from harassing and stinging people, just what do they actually do?

You can be happily sat in your garden sipping on a cool beer or, in my case, in the park having a picnic with my best friend, his girlfriend and their little nipper who is happily poking sticks into a pond when along comes a wasp to spoil it all. It starts buzzing around your sandwiches and showing an interest in your glass of wine and then, in a blink of an eye, it happens. Yup, it’s that world famous Benny Hill chase routine. But without the scantily clad ladies. Or the music for that matter.

In an instant, your mate leaps up off the ground, legs it about the park like a girl, arms flaying all over the place and shouting expletives about the parenting skills of a wasp in an attempt to out run it. And no sooner has he managed to avoid his little yellow and black foe it starts a chain reaction of break dancing parents as the now fed up, and possibly rather annoyed, wasp goes off and pesters another happily picnicking family.

Laughing Away the Pain

Given yesterdays all new and original put down (well to me anyway) I thought I’d share with you a collection of other put downs and their true translation that you may well have faced during your various dating dilemmas.

Unfortunately, my dating dilemma appears to be continuing without so much as a breather, plus I decided to leave my usual “Why don’t you just f*ck off” put down off the list because, well, it’s all rather self explanatory really.

Rejection lines given by women to men:

1. I think of you as a brother – You remind me of that inbred banjo geek in “Deliverance”


2. There’s a slight difference in our ages – I don’t want to do my Dad


3. I’m not attracted to you in ‘that’ way – You ugly dork


4. My life is too complicated right now – I don’t want you spending the entire evening hearing all the phones calls from the other guys I’m seeing


5. I’ve got a boyfriend – I prefer my male cat and half a gallon of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream


6. I don’t date men where I work – I wouldn’t date you if we were in the same solar system, much less the same office


7. It’s not you, it’s me – It’s you


8. I’m concentrating on my career – Even something as boring and unfulfilling as my job is better than dating you


9. I’m celibate – I’ve sworn off the likes of you


10. Let’s be friends – I want you to stay around so I can tell in you great detail about the other men I meet and have sex with

And just to be fair and equal amongst the sexes, some rejection lines given by men to women:

1. I think of you as a sister – You’re ugly


2. There’s a slight difference in our ages – You’re ugly


3. I’m not attracted to you in ‘that’ way – You’re ugly


4. My life is too complicated right now – You’re ugly


5. I’ve got a girlfriend – You’re ugly


6. I don’t date women where I work – You’re ugly


7. It’s not you, it’s me – You’re ugly


8. I’m concentrating on my career – You’re ugly


9. I’m celibate – You’re ugly


10. Let’s be friends – You’re ugly as sin

As a footnote, as a fairly regular reader of the Girl With a One Track Mind blog I went and bought myself a copy of Abby’s similarly named book Girl with a One-track Mind: Confessions of the Seductress Next Door from Amazon.co.uk. It’s a rather good, eye opening and rather funny read indeed.

However, the only trouble with buying the book is that it’s made me look like a right pervert in the eyes of Amazon.co.uk. Now every time I visit the Amazon.co.uk homepage it is helpfully recommending all sorts of books that, were I to wear glasses, would be enough to steam them up. Cheers for that Abby!