This evening produced an 'aha' moment.  

A month ago I was fortunate enough to be treated to a night at the opera by said Peer of the Realm.  A few years ago, 'La Boheme' would be guaranteed to reduce me to a pool of mascara coloured tears.  On this occasion however, there was nothing. Nada.  Zilch.  I was utterly convinced that my heart had died and shriveled beyond any hope, something that since has troubled me deeply.  Had I really become such a hardened, cynical bitch?  Was I ever to be capable of feeling any emotion again?

And yet, this evening, listening to the orchestra of a well-known music college, I found my eyes flooding with tears as my creaky old heart started to find the resin it needed to rejeuvinate those ancient strings.  The passion with which they played, the potential their youth represents

and the mellifluous sound they created left me both stemming tears and restraining pure giggles of joy simultaneously.  

These simply cannot be the manifestations of a defunct organ.  I dare to hope that they are the start of a re-awakening of my ability to seek joy.  To find pleasure in everyday life.  To be an attractive woman.  To get down and dirty.  But, most importantly, to be happy.

The ultimate 'aha' was that the world is full of possibilities. If only we are brave enough to recognise and take them.

Wish me luck.

The Dating Game

It has taken me a good two and a half years to feel comfortable in accepting an invitation for a 'date'.  Over that time I have forced myself to go out with a number of men (one has to keep one's hand in, or so I told myself), but often with hilarious, and on one occasion physically painful, consequences.

Initially it started with the dreaded online world of "you've not met me but I'm kind, caring and, oh, hung like a donkey" (and one occasion the man in question even posed with a buckaroo to labour the point.  Purlease.  Suffice to say I hit 'delete').  Desperate, not for sex, but to prove to myself (and I suspect, the exes) that I was capable of getting out there and being vaguely attractive again, I acknowledged a few online winks and subsequent dates.  Oh my goodness.  Those who had the patience and misfortune to read my previous blog, will know that I tucked what was left of my confidence into my pants (always a G string and matching bra, natch) and had a few rather strange experiences.

The actor who had a very large raw nerve about his family that I unintentionally touched upon, was in such a rush to leave that his (big) head bounced off a glass wall, leaving me to address the puzzled glances of the bouncers with an enigmatic smile (I've not been back since).  A lucky escape.

The seemingly attractive (at last!) and amusing triathlete whom on date one spun a line.  On date two reeled me in and left bleeding for a couple of days and  bruised psychologically for quite a lot longer.   

The work contact whom is charming, erudite, talented, interesting - but, ultimately - doesn't pluck my strings and so is going nowhere.  Although I am thankful that he has helped me to feel attractive again for the first time in years.

There's the Peer of the Realm.  Too high profile to elucidate and I struggle to find the balance between client relations and whatever it is he thinks he is looking for.

And last night? Gosh - a night out with a man whom I:

a. met through normal circumstances - friend of a friend

b. is intelligent

c. is amusing - made me laugh all evening

d. is interested (or so I thought) - actually asked me questions about my life

e. is very cute and I actually find physically attractive

It would appear however that unless I feel a HUGE 'this isn't going anywhere' or a man makes an inappropriate lunge (what am I saying?  Can a lunge ever be appropriate?) I am at a complete loss as to whether or not a chap is interested.

When did this all get so complicated?  Need it be?

Probably not.  So I shall do my best to be happy in myself, not look for affirmation elsewhere and to get on with life.

And, on the very outside chance that he gets in touch again, I may be free. And I may not.

(Yes I know.  Who am I kidding....)

Extermination; Eradication; Elimination

There are certain elements of one's life and personality that is is constructive to eradicate.  Picking one's nose in public (not that I have ever done this I hasten to add), the wearing of flat, comfortable shoes (ditto), and, in my case, the automatic impulse to expel any calories from my body in the event that I feel I have over indulged.

I won't go into details as it can be distressing for author and reader alike, suffice to say, I am physically unable to make myself vomit and so rely on a vaguely effective potion of natural remedies (I am no longer able to ingest laxatives given years of abuse), fruit juice, red wine and anything else that comes to hand. Sadly no longer the beloved cigarettes that I currently crave.

I would give anything at this moment to remove the past few hours - yet I know what underlies this current uncertainty.  Being noticed by the opposite sex.  Feeling attractive for the first time in years - and scared by that.  And so fat that I resemble a small beached whale.

But most importantly, I imagine, is to learn to say - "yes I have drunk too much wine, nibbled too much chocolate etc but I'm still gorgeous".

Softly, softly, catch the monkey. 

It would appear that all the worldly advice I have been offered over the past couple of years is, rather annoyingly, accurate.  That it is only when one is happy in oneself and one's own skin, that one truly becomes an interesting package for others to unwrap.  Or so, in my need to poof up my self-esteem, I have come to believe.

Despite the recent raft of odd dates and the strange bumping into the ex-heart-breaker, I am surprisingly feeling at one with myself.  Those who know me well, appreciate the level to which I struggle with 'me' (especially when a close friend tells me that I look better 'bigger' -OH. MY . GOD.  It's a miracle quite frankly that I only indulged in a packet of 10 naughty sticks).  Yet, interestingly, I am feeling happier with life, myself and almost with work, than ever before.   

Oh sure, I still feel the endless insecurities about the size of my stomach, gas bill, alcohol intake etc, yet I am beginning to feel a freedom away from these rules.  Yet that is very scary - where is one without the boundaries that one has developed?  Without the 11 years plus of relationships that have shaped one's existence?

I hope to let you know.  Three dates with three different chaps (if I can curtail my middle-aged spread) may provide me with a level of insight.  If not, some material at least for a few entries here - hopefully of a suitably, and much needed, saucy nature!

Welcome Back

It's been nearly a year since I've dared to blog.  I've altered the identity of my blog in an effort to escape unwelcome prying eyes.  I will divulge details on subsequent postings, suffice to say I have dabbled in the world of cyber dating - and been physically and mentally roughed up.  I have bought my first flat, finally am happy being alone, have the ridiculously happy problem of working out what to do in my spare time, and, at last, feel ready to be 'out there'.

Wish me luck!