As my blog is optimistically subtitled a thirty something’s guide to life, I thought that I would offer up a few insights into the dating minefield this week.  

Hold on to your hats, because we are going through the dating maze.  And, as anyone who has ever visited a maze will know, they’re not always much fun and there aren’t enough directions.

NOT THAT KIND OF GIRL  – Dating

Firstly, I really can’t offer dating advice.  Like golf or playing computer games, I am truly hopeless at it.

Read on, but make sure you have a G & T in your hand. But, don’t slam it on the key board if you see something you don’t like.

This crazy little thing called love

You don’t have to say you love me…just get in the cab.  This is how one of my friends summed up modern dating.  It still makes me laugh. Does anyone in Britain actually date?  By that I mean in the American way, asking someone out for dinner thirty seconds after they meet them in a bar?  And you date lots of people at once, and have the conversation about “going steady” etc?

This has always mystified me.  As someone who has had problems finding one Mr Right, let alone three Mr “Take me out to dinner followed by an awkward goodbye”, I have never understood dating different people at once.  Can anyone enlighten me?

Love on the High Street

Has anyone else had enough of those TV adverts with two fey people glancing at each other shyly in a public library whilst holding up promising looking books in the manner of a retro style flirtation, or in an “old music shop” set which are ultimately plying the wares of either an online dating site (more on that later) or indeed for a cheap body spray?

It seems we should all be flicking our eyes over our shoulder whilst humming “I like…old movies” as we look coquettishly through the dust covered albums or tomes to find our beloved. Who knows what you could pick up whilst thumbing through a thoughtfully placed copy of “The Principles and Practice of Hairdressing” (This is a true book, it was in my school library in 1990 and taught you how to make decorative flowers out of REAL HAIR).

Whilst I am torn between spraying on the Impulse (the fellas love that cheap white musk smell I hear), and dashing down to my local library on the pretext of collecting some recycling bags, I can’t help feeling that I am in for a grave disappointment.  And it wouldn’t work anyway, because I have never watched “Godfather Three”. (see the irritating ad referred to above).

Online, ontime

If you are single in this day and age, the land of internet dating beckons like a mermaid on the rocks to the galleon of that is the good ship singledom.  You can sail past it a number of times, but there it always is, the murky yet tempting world of online activity.

The land of possibilities that is internet dating is tempered by its limitations – you can both be as witty and funny as you like in messages and post as many action man shots as needed, (Him on skis – check! Him sailing – check! Him leaning against car – check!) but until you actually meet up,  how do things progress?

As with most things in this blog, there is something to be said about the etiquette of online romance.  A quick survey reveals that most women love sites where the girls can use a “flirt” option which I take to be the cyber equivalent of smiling at a man across a crowded dance floor (yes I know it’s not 1950 and no one does that anymore), rather than being the first to send a message.

Is it ridiculous that in these days of equality, we still like the man to make the first virtual move and to be the one to throw down his cards first?   Also based on the two internet weddings I have been to (by this I mean real, actual friends of mine who met online),  both were founded on the fact that he messaged her first. So that’s the extent of my scientific research.  Personally, I think it’s nice to have a splash of old fashioned romance in the sea of online dating.

Broadband Romance

You can’t be single, able to type and living in London  without being a member of an online dating site.  Can you?  I did a straw poll amongst friends who met online and the [instant] message was perseverance.  I gather this is the same message given to women in their tenth hour of labour and also to endurance athletes, or when David Blaine freezes himself in an ice cube.  But don’t give up girls!  Keep at it and pretend you love “meeting for coffee” with a man in a bad shirt who listed all his favourite meals on the website, because obviously you were just dying to know that he enjoys (and can cook!) shepherd’s pie AND pasta bake.

I think that internet dating sites are like any bright and shiny new toy – for a few days it’s all winking, nudging and looking at profiles in a way that normally only the new Boden catalogue can excite you.  I started off with some rules that I have now relaxed  – being an old fashioned girl I found it odd that women could send the first message (!!!) and realised that I would have to get over this, as I was the one losing out by sending psychic waves to Tom from South London with the blue eyes and a fun taste in polo shirts.  Sometimes though, time out is required. After all, your life doesn’t need to be dictated by alert emails that someone who wasn’t brave enough to put a photograph of themselves up has just viewed your profile, but has dismissed you out of hand for the nice looking blonde girl who was kind enough to post a picture of her in her bikini.

As far as I can see, three things get you ahead when internet dating.

1. The first is a decent picture in which you are smiling (not one in which everyone can see your awful taste in home furnishings.  They aren’t going to send you a wink if they are horror struck by your sitting room border…).
2. The second are the spelling, grammar and punctuation in your profile.  I can’t tell you how many people find poor grammar a total turn off.  If in doubt, enlist the help of a friend to proof read your profile.  And avoid saying that you “love a good DVD and a bottle of wine”, because so do the other 2,000 people you are competing with on the site, I imagine. Don’t we all?  And isn’t it because we are keeping the DVD industry alive that we are all still by ourselves?
3. Thirdly:  a sense of humour, both in your profile and also in yourself.

My final two theories about internet dating are that it can be like searching for a needle in a haystack (obvious) but I also ascribe to the sweet shop theory, which is that no matter how many jars of exciting looking candy are on the counter, it is highly likely that if you have always gone for cola bottles and fruit salads, you probably always will.

Although I shouldn’t say this, online dating can also offer free entertainment (ok, for about £60.00 for three months if we’re being picky).  You too can enter into the “I’ve travelled to more places than you” competition, see how many spelling mistakes others can make in writing their profile and watch in amazement as you see paraded before your very eyes (inter alia), men with snakes round their necks, men whose user names are a variant of “Rohypnol” (I am not joking) and those who ask cyber space: “Where are you, beautiful lady?”

It always worries me when people on websites describe themselves as ‘separated’, because in my book this means that “I have just split up with the missus and I’m looking for some shenanigans with an unsuspecting girl who may end up cited in my divorce”.  Of course if you have been separated for a long time then this may be an exception, but avoid like the plague anyone who puts spending a few quid on a dating site subscription over putting the readies toward sorting out their decree absolute.

Supermarket sweep

I think one of the biggest myths out there is that the best place to meet other single people is in the supermarket. I have certainly never had any luck whilst trying to reach the frozen pastry! I do wonder if other people go to Waitrose on a Friday evening because they don’t have a date and they have to kill time until Have I Got News for You so they can cop lascivious glances at Boris Johnson (if it’s a good week)?

Rather than putting our green charity tokens into their boxes after paying for our shopping, I wonder if the John Lewis Partnership would do better to give any single shoppers a badge on their way in and we could all save on our online dating memberships! There would be more to spend on shopping that way and I can just imagine love blooming at the checkout or over the loose olives.  Yes, sales of meals for one and Sauvignon Blanc might stall for a bit, but you take the rough (Ardennes pate) with the smooth (chicken liver). Wouldn’t it be great?

That said, avoid like the plague (true story from the Hampstead Tesco here), men who need to show how good they were at biology GCSE / A level by loudly patronising the staff about seemingly out of date produce.  The one I heard doing this was in an American accent, and he seemed truly thrilled that he felt he was helping those less fortunate than himself: “Ok, like, so these packets have EXPANDED.  That means like, that they have given off gas.  Do you remember your microbiology?” (Honestly). “So, I wouldn’t go putting those back on the shelves”.  Thanks for that, we’re all grateful.  Now, if I could just reach past you for a Falafel, with your permission?

Dinner and a movie?

What I hate about going to the cinema and theatre are other people who enjoy sitting in front of me and communicating with each other throughout the show.

It really is marvellous to have a running commentary when you have paid for an evening of watching a film, rather than wishing that the acrylic mix top worn by the woman in row D would burst into flames.  Ditto checking your i-phone / blackberry throughout. No one is that important, surely?  If you are certain you are, then do the rest of us a favour and get the film on DVD so you can check your phone to your heart’s delight.

A night at the opera

I once heard that Glyndebourne was where “old ball gowns go to die”.  This is most reassuring and I am sure that some of my former frock horrors would be in paradise there.  However, the English summer brings out other operatic events that do not require black tie, which is a good thing I suppose, as my recent experience has been that a tarpaulin with two eye slits cut in it would be more appropriate.

Nowhere is English eccentricity more perfectly acted out than at the opera.  Forget the programme (Nothing you can’t hum along to there between the Flower Duet and O Mio Bambino Caro cross-matched with some La Traviata highlights), because your eyes should be on your fellow audience members for signs of odd behaviour.

Having witnessed and carried wooden garden tables and chairs across lawns, seen crystal glasses being unwrapped and used and sat in near gale force winds being lashed by cold rains before retreating to the portaloos for five minutes of warmth before heading back out for the highlight of the evening, I would not bat an eyelid if the candelabra came out. Next of course, it’s  the tombola prize draw!  Perennial favourites of the night will also include a medley of show tunes from Porgy and Bess, combined with people who say over the picnic: “We’ve just discovered quinoa”, in the same way that they might advise you they had discovered penicillin.

Forget the black tie and taffeta.  Unless either are thermal or waterproof, must have wear for the opera includes your Barbour, a huge umbrella and as many insulating layers under that as you can muster, because you’re going to need them any time after 6.30 pm, and particularly during the picnic interval!

Throwing down your favour – the age of courtly love is over

My friend Rob has provided a much needed dose of reality by advising me to remove my conical hat with the wispy veil from my head and to chuck it back to the good old days from whence it came, because times had changed and I was going to have to accept that.

When the going gets tough – beware the time waster

It is a truth universally acknowledged that, like something hot that you are told not to touch because it will hurt, cads and bounders are utterly irresistible to most girls at some point in their lives and act like iron filings to a magnet.

We all know the answer, and both burned fingers and a broken heart sting like crazy and hurt for ages after the event.  But like moths to a flame, we carry on chucking ourselves at the bright light bulb.  Ow! Ow! Ow!

My own “light bulb moment” came after a year of unrequited love for a man I shall call The Leprechaun, not least because I hope he is living under a four leaf clover by now.  We emailed every day.  We were both single. Lovely meals were had, gifts exchanged and text messages pinged over several months.  I thought that Cupid’s arrows had at last found their way to my door and was as smug as a rat, when he took me out for an [express] lunch and announced a) He had news! B) He had a girlfriend! C) They had been together for months! D) Her Name was (Iwas so enraged by this point that I don’t remember this bit) E) THE CLINCHER – Would I like to meet her at a party on Friday?  And I sat there thinking – WTF????? (Not to mention why did I spend money on a new dress).

Why had I not seen this coming? After many tears (Ok, mild hysteria in the loos of a Chancery Lane pub as a friend comforted me with reviving spirits), I realised, too late, that I had been cast as the “good friend”. Aha.

There are two kinds of women that most girls hate being.  The first kind are the sort who men sleep with and then ditch. Enough said. The second kind is being the one that men tell about it and then seek your advice!!!! Yes sweetie, take a bow, because you’re the good female friend.

If I may play my tiny violin, it is far worse to be the woman who is taken out for dinner, and confided in about the man’s love life and to have to listen to their woes about accidentally sleeping with their flat mate YET AGAIN.  Ladies, this is a warning.  Do not be this girl – life is too short, as I found out the hard way. Leave him to it.

Of course I cannot guarantee against chance sightings when your heart will beat faster and you stomach will jolt, but just follow my brave example and flatten yourself against a wall. This can be difficult when you are both in the same sandwich shop….  He (and the feeling!) will soon pass and you can focus on which soup you would prefer. Most of life’s problems can be resolved by a drink and a bag of kettle chips whilst watching DVD boxed sets during heartbreak weekend. Friends are optional at these times – licking your wounds can be a solitary business.

Two clicks and a night out – the lessons of dating

But, (never start a sentence with “but”), however bad the stormy oceans of romance may be, just think, it could be worse, we could all be stuck watching Black Swan after Titanic, whilst being held hostage on one of those cruise liners with a climbing wall during a noro virus outbreak. I’ll leave you with that thought.  Until next time!