Fenella needs a plan

I need a plan.

Grayer's plan was excellent. Unfortunately, I cannot use Grayer's plan due to the fact that the national sport over here is soccer. Soccer fans are not baseball fans. Soccer fans are men that during the 9-5 in the office are quite mild mannered creatures but when they get to a soccer game they become cavemen type hooligans who drink and swear and chant. Yes, they chant. And it's not pleasant. I googled 'football chants' to prove my point:

To the tune of Yellow Submarine:

Michael Chopra loves to beat his wife,
loves to beat his wife,
loves to beat his wife.

This is the calibre of men we are talking about here. And then, if their team loses? Well what better way to cope with the humiliation and defeat by trashing whatever pub you happen to walk into first?

To conclude, I can't use Grayer's plan. I need a new plan.

I have tried to go to areas where there may perhaps be some eligible men lurking about. Well maybe not lurking, that wouldn't be terribly attractive.

* I joined my work's softball team. When Vi plays softball she is the flame to the many male moths she plays with. When I play softball I am but a smouldering wet match, if that. I have fun though - I didn't join softball to meet guys, it just would've been nice if it was an added bonus is all.

* I go out to a variety of drinking establishments in a variety of areas of London. Nada. Just your typical British men.

* Now that I know more people in London I have started to meet friends of friends which people say is one of the most common ways of meeting someone. Zilch.

I am aware that I am starting to sound quite bitter, maybe even slightly desperate. I'm really not. I'm just saying that it would be nice if just occasionally I went out one evening or met up with some friends and there was a relatively normal, relatively attractive, relatively funny guy there. I don't think that's asking too much.

What's most annoying is when people ask the question dreaded by all singletons:

"Fenella, why are you still single?"

BECAUSE THERE ARE NO BLOODY DECENT MEN AROUND. AND IF THERE ARE, I CAN'T FIND THEM.

I'm really not desperate. I swear.

So this is why I'm still single...

My apologies for being absent from the blog for awhile, I've had a visitor in the form of mine and Vi's other half (third?) Jen. Vi - we missed you!!

As well as Jen and I having oodles of fun after almost 2 years apart we also discovered something very interesting...the reason why I am still single. The answer?

British men.

They. Are. Hopeless. Seriously. You may recall I have previously voiced my opinion about British men and the differences in dating between here and on your side of the pond. But it is much worse than I thought.

Jen and I were out one evening. She was on a mission to find me a man. I wished her luck but said it wasn't gonna happen. I explained that I wasn't being self-deprecating but that British men don't really approach women and that we should go out simply with the mission to get drunk and dance. Jen was not to be dissuaded. Here is how the evening unfolded:

Bar #1: Pisco Sours were consumed. Jen seem surprised that there was a group of guys standing near to a group of girls but the guys weren't approaching the girls at all. I resisted the urge to say "I told you so."

Bar #2: Cocktails and a shot of sambuca and tequila was consumed. Jen and I sat sipping (well, glugging) our cocktails. We weren't approached. Jen was started to get irritated. We decided to dance. Jen gave guys a (non-scary and non-threatening) look as if to say: "if you come talk to us, we won't send you away." That didn't work.

Bar #3: Cocktails and more tequila was consumed. Jen asked a guy who was looking at us if he wanted to do a shot with us. He walked away looking a bit scared. We danced some more. Jen admitted I was right about British men. I normally like being right, but not this time.

I should mention that Jen is a really pretty girl, she's blonde and tanned and even I was a little bit surprised that the only guy that wanted to chat to her was the Colombian coat check guy. See? British guys are USELESS.

It seems that the only way people meet their 'significant others' over here are in college or travelling situations.

Case #1 My First Boyfriend: we met at college where meeting people is so much easier. Namely because of the alcohol.

Case #2 Fergus: we met in Peru, in that travelling type of situation where native English speakers tend to stick together.

Intrigued by my own personal experience I had a think about the couples that I know and how they met. Of my poll of 10 couples the results of how they met are as follows:

College: 6
Travelling situation: 2
Online Dating: 1
Work: 1

It seems that in order to increase my chances of meeting someone I need to either:

a.) Go back to school. Not too keen on that one.
b.) Move to the US. Very keen on this one except I've recently discovered people only get 10 vacation days a year. Seriously?! I get 26. How do you manage with 10?

Or I could meet either a confident British guy or an American or Australian. That would do nicely.

Until then, hooray for cocktails and tequila!

Random Thoughts on Nothingness

We've been pretty quiet this month. I can't speak for all of us (although I probably can, I'm the only one who actually knows everyone), but I've got absolutely nothing going on. Grayer is in the process of moving to a new city, Fenella just started online dating, and I don't even have a reliable booty call, seeing as he's never available. In fact, when Fenella comes to visit me in 3 weeks (eeek! Just 3 weeks!) she is going to help me find a new booty call. It is henceforth being called Operation: Papa Smurf. (Don't ask us why. We don't really know.) Although a few weeks ago, a couple of guys taught me how to play backgammon at a bar (no idea how that happened either), but that never amounted to anything. I mean, assuming they were both single (which I don't actually know), there were two of them and one of me. Apparently they didn't rock-paper-scissors for me while I was in the ladies'. So yeah. Nothing.

Yes, I know the Italian Dreamboat handed me his number, but I dealt with that the same way I deal with all awkward situations: I avoided it. I didn't call him, and I never gave him any explanation. Do I really need to? I never asked for his number. He can't understand anything I say anyway.

And speaking of reasons why I'm still single, the cute neighbor gave me something to think about last week. Over dinner, (which we've started doing with alarming frequency. I see him more now than I would an actual boyfriend, we're even road tripping this weekend), we were discussing, or maybe I was complaining about, men I've dated in the past. To which the cute neighbor said, "Since I've known you, I've heard about what you don't want in a man. What is it that you want?"

I seriously could not think of a decent answer. After "funny" I just kind of blanked. I mean, obviously I have preferences, like well-educated and good hygiene, but while I've written lists of dealbreakers, I've never written down dealmakers. I just always figured I would know it when I saw it. Right?

So far, that's all I've got: Funny, well-educated and good hygiene. Oh, and someone who can deal with the car. And money. I'm as much a feminist as the next woman, but having to deal with the car and do my own taxes are two of the worst things about being a grown-up.

Despite my romantic hibernation and cluelessness about what it actually is I'm looking for, I'm optimistic about finding something soon. Spring is here, and that means people will be out more. I think it's safe to declare St. Patrick's Day as the official start to the Spring Dating Season. I'll be playing softball again, which always helps the meeting process, and I have no doubt that Operation: Papa Smurf will be a success.

Under Pressure

Over the past few years I've been feeling some pressure from my dad to give him grandchildren. I find this kind of ridiculous. I'm still in my mid twenties afterall. It started out with my dad's friends having grandchildren. I would over hear their conversations where my dad would say that neither I, nor my brother, would be having kids anytime soon. Then he started throwing comments in about how he wanted grandchildren. My dad doesn't seem to understand how hard it is to find the right person. He was, and probably still is, convinced that my singleton status is a choice. If I really wanted to be in a relationship then I would be and the fact that I wasn't in some way meant that I was standing between him and the grandchildren that he desired. He even went so far as to purchase a baby quilt at a church auction for the phantom babies in his dreams.

This whole thing has caused some conflict between my dad and I. On some occasions, I admit that I've lost my cool. As I argued with my dad, the twitch in my eye became more pronounced. At one point I even became so exasperated that I yelled at him and left the dinner table crying.

After this incident, my mom told my dad he wasn't allowed to make any comments to me about dating or babies. Over this past year he has been very good about this. Even when he knew I was dating someone, for the most part he didn't ask questions or make comments. (I'm sure this is killing him.) However, now when I overhear him talking to friends instead he seeks pity by saying things like "I'm never going to have grandchildren" in a dejected tone.

A couple of weeks ago I left my dad alone with one of my guy friends. This may have been a mistake. Somehow my dad turned the conversation on my dating and his desire for grandchildren. (Mind you he was talking to my friend who has been trying unsuccessfully to have children with his wife for several years.) Apparently, while talking to me about this is off limits, my friends are not. My guy friend told my dad that I was dating MM for a while and said that I had a couple of prospects now. This last part was of course a lie to placate my father. He also reminded my dad that some people can't have children.

The irony is that I always wanted to have children, but now I'm not so sure. Violet wrote a post last month on baby aches and I found that I couldn't relate at all. Maybe this is in part because I've been so stressed and unhappy with my job. Even thinking about adding children to the mix is terrifying. Maybe I'm just trying not to put the cart before the horse. (Lets face it, I need to find a guy first.) Or maybe the pressure to produce progeny is just too much for me.

When fools rush in

You may remember my single friend Nate. Being the only two (sane) singles in the department, Nate and I have a connection. He's the guy who will play into all of my ridiculous antics, and who, most importantly, is somehow the key to me meeting men (I met Hanging Out Guy when I was out with Nate). I love the guy but in no way have I ever wanted to date him, though in someway, I am a bit protective of him. So you might imagine my reaction, when somewhat out of the blue, he tells me he has a girlfriend.

I believe my exact words were, "WWWhhhat??" It was just a couple of weeks ago that I had mentioned to him how others were wondering why he was single. Question one, how did he go from thinking about not being single, to acutually not being single? And question two, why the hell does that not work for women?

He had confided in me last week that while I was on vacation, he had gone on a couple dates. (These dates included coffee, and watching the West Wing on DVD, which I told him were not dates). So after about two weeks, and a handful of "dates," they decide that they're dating exclusively. Is it just me or are they moving at the speed of light? To have already had that discussion, well, it just seems crazy.

After discussing this, Violet and I have noticed that we each date a guy a ridiculously long time before going exclusive with them. Take Hanging Out Guy, for example. I'm still having a lot of fun with him and things seem to be moving right along, except for the whole labeling of our relationship. We've cooked each other dinner, and I've stayed at his house on a weekday (my heat was mysteriously shut off and its too cold up North to go without). We have gone to the movies, and I've even worn sweatpants over to his house. And yet our relationship remains undefined.

Nate claims this is because him and his new gf are more mature than HOG and I. I claim this is because they are older than we are, and let's face it, she's not getting any younger, she needs to know where a relationship is going. Between Nate and I, it's hard to say who's the fool, but I am most certainly not rushing in.

Introducing the Men of Meetup

I’m probably overdue for an update on my meetup group. I’ve attended 4 meetups so far. The core group of people who have been around since the beginning of the meetup are all really cool. It is great to have something to do for once!

First an update on the two guys that emailed me after the first meetup. The first guy, lets call him McSlick, is part of the core group that started the meetup. McSlick is the fun cool guy…very friendly but I wonder if he might be a bit of a player. He emailed me within a couple of hours of the first meetup to say that he enjoyed meeting me and I should come again. A couple days later he emailed me again and asked if I wanted to go to a movie with some of the people I met. We didn’t end up going to the movie but I’ve seen him at a couple of events since then.

I’m pretty sure the other guy that emailed me after the first meetup was/is interested in me. He seemed really nice but a little boring. However, since then I discovered that he is 13 years older and has 2 kids. (I would have guessed he was only a little more than 5 years older than me.) I admit this makes me somewhat less interested but I haven’t ruled him out entirely. Hmm…I guess we’ll call him the “Old Man” for lack of a better name.

Last weekend we had an event and several new guys came. One of which looked kind of familiar but I couldn’t place him…lets call him the Jerk. He said the same thing to me earlier in the evening. However, as the evening went on, he and several of the other new guys got more and more drunk. At one point the Jerk told his friend I was in love with him and tried to get me to kiss his friend. Later the Jerk comes over to me and boldly declares that I have kissed him before. I of course told him that wasn’t possible. He said some crap like “I can’t believe you don’t remember!” and persisted until I gave up arguing with him and walked away. I know what you might be thinking but the list of guys I’ve kissed is embarrassingly short…I WOULD remember. If this wasn’t enough some of my friends told me that earlier in the evening the Jerk implied that he had slept with me. Complete Fuckwit!! Another one of the new guys hit on me but is was obvious he was just interested in sex.

Anyway, I’m feeling very optimistic about finding new friends but a little disappointed in men.

It's not them, it's you

I just read a very interesting article on why we can't find a date.

Sadly, I found a bit too much of myself in this article.

• First and foremost, and that one thing we hear so often in the single world that it has become cliche, is confidence, confidence, confidence. I've always been the confident girl (since I left high school, anyway), but now I've been single so long, I can sense that confidence waning. Nearly a year in South America doesn't exactly help either, where the locals were so obvious I felt like a piece of meat, but the other gringos were only interested in taking advantage of the local girls. Now, I don't exactly strut my stuff with the confidence I once had.
• Case study 1 Outward behavior: Extreme pickiness. I know I'm picky, I've discussed it a few times on this blog (but I'm working on that!) But I know I'm not nearly as picky as the extreme cases Novak discusses here. No, I don't think my soulmate has yet to move out of his parents' basement while still working at the local fast food joint, but I don't care if he drives a fancy car or has a nice house/apartment.
• Case study 2 Outward behavior: Can’t flirt. I don't think I'm completely incompetent in this department, (as I have flirted successfully in the past) but when Novak mentions girls who "talk sports with the bartender" or who responded to come-ons with a "sarcastically nasty comment," it hit a bit too close to home, as these behaviors are "always the girl friend, never the girlfriend." See? I knew my ESPN habit was partially to blame for my singleton status!

Mr. Almost Perfect

I admit, I have very high standards. My list of dealbreakers is very, very long. Too long. I'm working on being a bit more open-minded, which will have to wait until I move, because I never EVER date boys who are from my current location. Is my pickiness the reason I'm still single? I don't know, but it may be the reason why I haven't had a real, honest-to-goodness boyfriend in far too long. (Imaginary boyfriends don't count.)

A few months ago, I met Mr. Almost Perfect. He was cute. He was funny. No, HILARIOUS. He was sweet. He was a European Jim Halpert. And we were sitting on the world's most isolated inhabited island together. It seemed too good to be true, which, of course, it was. Mr. Almost Perfect was a smoker.

Now, I really don't think Mr. Almost Perfect and I ever could have lived happily ever after. First of all, we carry different passports, making it geographically impossible. But it had been awhile, so I thought maybe the Rapa Nui gods had reached down and given me a sack full of fresh guapo points and a weekend fling on the remotest of remote islands was exactly what I needed. Sadly, it was not to be.

I tried to tell myself that smoking is a silly dealbreaker when simply looking for a little weekend fun, but I wasn't very convincing. I mean, who wants to kiss an ashtray? Granted, he didn't exactly make the moves on me, but I also nagged him every time he lit up, so I can't imagine that was a very attractive quality. When he told me that he had only recently started the habit up again, I was tempted to reply, "Well then, why don't you go home, quit, then CALL ME."

When it was time to part ways, I wasn't all that upset about it. At least I know that the good guys are out there, somewhere. Jim Halpert does exist. You just may have to go to the ends of the earth to find him.

But I still think Cole Hamels is hot...

I just finished watching the World Series. In the top of the 7th, Tampa Bay outfielder Rocco Baldelli hit a home run, and the following words actually came out of my mouth: "He didn't even extend his hands, and he still managed to hit it out."

I know a LOT about sports, particularly baseball. Even the most minute details. I can explain the infield fly rule (and have, to almost every guy I've dated), I have an opinion on the designated hitter rule (get rid of it, all players should play the whole game), and I listen to Mike and Mike In The Morning every morning on ESPNradio.

Don't get me wrong, I am still very much a girl. I enjoy wearing high heels and dresses, applying mascara, and I get weepy over The Notebook. But I would much rather go to the game than spend an afternoon shoe shopping. In fact, I think a baseball game is a really, really good date. So how am I still single?

Are men turned off by ESPN-watching women? And if so, why? Are they intimidated? Do they feel it threatens their manhood? At risk of sounding arrogant, shouldn't I be every man's dream? I'm no Scarlett Johansson, but I don't need to put a bag over my head when I leave the house, either. What gives?

I understand that part of my problem is my taste in men. Jocks aren't really my type, but then again, I don't think I'm their type either. Does one cause the other? Am I not their type because I'm more likely to be playing next to them rather than be one of the cheerleaders?

I should probably be asking men these questions (hmmm, maybe I'll email Mike and Mike...), so do me a favor and ask around.