Take my dress to the ball!

May 2011

2011-05-18T04:00:00.000-07:00

I have been feeling too sad to write and a week has passed. I wonder if anyone will bid on my dress when I eventually put it on Ebay. Maybe I should just give it to an oxfam shop and stop making it into a big drama.

I said No BANANAS (Then Aug 2009)

2011-05-09T22:54:00.000-07:00

It is at this point in time that my hideous boss at the BBC goes into overdrive. She calls me into her office to tell me that my daily to do list has increased. I look at the extra elements. They are all personal to her and not BBC related at all.
1) - Put an add on gumtree as she is looking for a new Nanny. She has been through 4 in six months. I bite back sarcastic comments relating to Mary Poppins and ask her is I will be expected to interview the nannies as well. Sh replies "No" quite unaware of my sarcasm. I am just to print out the replies and then rank them from 1 - 10 in order of preference according to a point system that she is going to devise.
2) - Get a fresh smoothie everyday from the cafe which is a 30 minute walk away. This is to be ready on her desk by 11am every day. It takes about 30 minutes to be served. Therefore the first 90 minutes of my day is now therefore dedicated to her smoothie. It has to always have some sort of "berry" in it and under no circumstances any bananas
3) - Check her personal email box and print out any photographs that are in the inbox...

Confronting him (Then: Aug 2009)

2011-05-09T08:13:00.000-07:00

I send the West End guy a message. “So when’s the Wedding?”

He doesn’t respond.

Two hours later I text again “Does Cristine know that her Fiancée has been seeing another woman for 5 months?”

He still doesn’t respond.

I dont kid myself. I am not in love with this guy but I got seriously attached and he had some kind of power over me in that I was drawn like a moth to a flame. maybe it was lonliness, maybe it was boredom that drove me into his arms. But nevertheless, I had been sincerere and honest with him and he had deceived and used me in a way that defied belief. I was not only completely shocked and angry about it all. I was unable to decide what to do about it. I consoled myself that it couldnt get any worse and that he would surely at least feel bad and shameful when we discussed it. I waited for him to get in touch..

Random Tagging (Then:Aug 2009)

2011-05-08T01:25:00.000-07:00

In no time at all I start to get replies back in response to the message I sent out on Tagged. And yes indeed it was confirmed that he had indeed been meeting these women when he went to Europe for business. But it wasnt business that he had been interested in. Usually meeting them in a nightclub or bar and plying them with champagne before inviting them back to his room. Sometimes he met up to 4 or 5 of them in during one trip.

I am completely furious with this man and devastated. Even though I hadnt been in love with him it was the fact that he could be so deceptive and capable of such betrayal. This was not even taking into account the equally outrageous fact that I had discoverd about his fiancee.

I sent him a text saying that I had an urge to see him as soon as possible and we agreed to meet in "Jewel Bar" at Picadilly Circus that evening.

Hell has no fury (Then: Aug 2009)

2011-05-07T13:00:00.000-07:00

I go into complete shock. Its incomprehendible that I have been dating a man for 5 months and he has a fiancee tucked away. I log onto Tagged.com and check out his profile. He has over 3000 friends. They are all female, under 30 and gorgeous. As a frequent traveller to Europe for business, he was in the habit of adding down local girls from the city that he was planning to visit that particular week. After keeping tabs on his profile for a few months this had always been an issue with me. Why only add women? If you genuinely are only networking and want to make business contacts? Why never add men? Or ugly women with good jobs?

So I systematically work through his ENTIRE friend list with the following message:

"Hello. You dont know me. I live in London and have been in an exclusive relationship with your friend from Tagged for the last 5 months. How are you aquainted and what is the nature of your relationship with him during this time? After recently finding out that he has a fiancee that he neglected to mention, Im just curious to what other mischief he has been up to. Grateful for any feedback you might want to give.."

I log off and wait...

Suspiscious mind (Then: Aug 2009)

2011-05-06T06:05:00.001-07:00

I went to meet the West End guy for dinner in Knightsbridge. When I turned up he was sitting with a few friends in a wine bar. They were all pretty drunk when I got there. As soon as I arrived his friends stood up and started to stagger out. One of them muttered something under his breath and winked at the West End guy. I wasn’t supposed to hear but I have ears like a bat.

“Take it Cristine isn’t to know about this”?”.

I ask West End man. “Who is Cristine?”

He replies “What? Don’t know.”

I ask again. He tells me she is someone he is networking with for an event with a hotel company. I ask which company. I used to work in the tourism industry and know my stuff. He gets irritated but I push. Eventually he says” Starwood hotels why what’s the problem?”, I let it drop.

When I get home that night I google “Starwood hotels” and “Cristina”. I get a hit. She is a manager for the group. I click on her profile. Blah Blah Blah. Responsible for this and that. And then at the bottom of the page a brief bio about her. She is engaged. To the guy I have been seeing for five months….

The Not-so-godly- Father _( Then: July 2008)

2011-05-04T23:58:00.000-07:00

One night in July 2009 I go and meet the West End guy. We have been seeing each other for 4 months. He is sitting in the bar with a Cockney bloke who gets really annoyed when I join them at the table. He leaves after about 20 minutes. I ask who he was. I am told that he is a big player in the London Mafia.

I start to suspect that the guy I am seeing could have a murky life. I think about trying to ask some probing questions. I consider: "Have you ever been in trouble with the law?" and !How did you get so rich that you have a mansion on Hyde Park?". However after a bottle of champagne he is in the mood to talk and tells me a delightful story about how he got revenge on the guy he hired to design his website who didnt build it to specifications. I ask what happened. He tells me with a deadpan face that he got someone to go to the guys flat and smash it up. I wait for the punchline but it doesnt arrive. I tell myself that he is joking and talking nonsense after too much to drink but that night I make an excuse and take a taxi home instead of letting his driver take me.

Suspiscious (Then: July 2009)

2011-05-03T00:01:00.001-07:00

Before I know it I have been seeing the West End Guy for 4 months. I am straight up with him and explain that when it comes to men “I do not share”. None of this "not exclusive stuff" for me. He tells me he besotted with me and that he can see us going the distance.

Something doesn’t add up though. It only takes a bit of research on his “tagged.com” profile to see that he is constantly adding gorgeous women in their 20’s. I find this really disconcerting and ask him why. He tells me it is to network for when he go overseas. He goes to Europe every week for business. Everytime he goes to a new city he adds about 20 new women from Tagged.com from that city. I ask him why he never adds men. He laughs. I don’t and start to get suspicious.

Plus – Ive never been to his house in Hyde Park – we always use hotels as he told me he had workmen in. My suspicions get stronger.

Painting the town (Then: April 2009)

2011-05-01T12:26:00.000-07:00

I start seeing The Cassanova on a regular basis. He originaly told me that he was two year older then me. I stupidly accepted this as fact. It later emerges that he is in fact 12 years my senior... He calls me and texts constantly naming the latest trendy London bar or restaurant that he wants me to meet him at. We usually drink champagne and he regails me with his stories. I cant say that I am falling for this guy but there is something very karismatic about him and I am drawn to him. Partly it is due to being so isolated in London previously. He is fun to be around, completely self centered and confident and for the first few months I just enjoy being around him.

The Cass (Then: Feb 2009)

2011-04-30T05:50:00.000-07:00

I meet Cass at a Morrocan themed restaurant in Central London one evening after work. He brings a portfolio about his new business which he started a few months ago. We talk about Event management and which markets are looking promising for potential new companies.

Its pretty obvious that this guy has got a massive ego and is a legend in his own mind. He is very entertaining and clearly has led quite the play boy lifestyle judging by the stories he tells me. He is an insider in Londons West End nightlife and works for the VIP clubs. He drops the names of a lot of these clubs but seeing as Im not into the scene I have no idea what he is talking about. He tells me with a wink that he will change all of that. Two bottles of champange later it occurs to me that this isnt a business meeting at all. Its turned into a date. At 2am Cass calls his driver and they drop me at my studio flat in North London before he goes back to his pad at Hyde Park. He tells me he will call me.

Duke and Duchess of Cambridge - April 2011

2011-04-29T06:35:00.000-07:00

Princes William and Catherine make a wonderful couple. What a fairytale wedding. I hope that they last.

Funny how when you are a little girl it seems so obvious that you will grow up and get married whilst wearing a beautiful gown, to a handsome man who adores you. Not so funny when you grow up and realise that its not such a simple thing to acheive.

Ozzo (Then: Feb 2009)

2011-04-28T11:15:00.000-07:00

I come to realise that the Tagged website is not for business networking. In the space of a few hours surfing it I get hit on by men across all the Eastern Block asking me if I want a nice Husband. I get a message from a frenchman who tells me he is looking for a mistress. Most of the profile photographs of men look like police mugshots of undesirables. The ones that do look interesting have posted a fake photograph. Everyone is lying. The extent of the conversation I can get out of most of them is along the lines of "Sup?"

Im about to delete my profile in frustration when I stumble over a guy who proclaims himself to be the biggest event manager in Londons Westend and is looking to network with people in the same industry. Perfect! I email him and tell him about my experience at Disney World and on Cruiseships. He writes back and asks me to meet for coffee so that he can advise me about setting up my Events Business.

Great! I think to myself. Little did I know.

Cassanova (Then: Feb 2009)

2011-04-28T01:57:00.000-07:00

In February 2009 I finally manage to find a new place to live. It is in North London and a studio flat the size of a shoe box. Its costing me £1000 a month. At first I am delighted to be living in a place of my own and away from South London. But the novelty soon wears off and I find myself missing even more the days I used to live onboard a luxury cruiseship and my happy go lucky lifestyle that used to be when I worked at sea.

In the meantime in an attempt to try and excape the clutches of my Banshee Boss at the BBC I decide to try and set up my own business as an events manager. I joined "Linkedin" and various other Buisness networking sites. One of these is "Tagged" which I niavely think is a business network site. I should have stayed off that site as it led me to meet The Cassanova.

Devon knows how they do that- April 2011

2011-04-27T12:26:00.001-07:00

Im heading out of London for a few days to see family in Devon. I grew up there more or less after moving around England every year or so until I was ten. The people living in the Devonshire countryside used to be rather narrow minded and didn’t take kindly to a girl of mixed race (English Mother/Father from Seychelles). So I got an awful lot of namecalling and bullying and as a result I never really felt like I belonged anywhere, always on the outskirts of all races/cultures. What do you do when the country you were born in tells you that you aren’t English because you aren’t the right shade?

Anyway my three pet hates are

1 ) – People who talk to themselves

2) – People who aren’t talking to themselves but look like they are because wearing those ridiculous phone ear piece thingys.

3) – Pigeons.

My last favourite place in London therefore is Kings Cross is because it is full of ALL three of the above.

1 ) – People who talk to themselves – The Kings Cross Variety usually come in the form of homeless/drunks/pissed off travellers who cant find the way to the Tube ticket office and are mumbling about it.

2) – People who aren’t talking to themselves but look like they are because wearing those ridiculous phone ear piece thingys. – The kIngs Cross variety are usually self important business people.

3) – Pigeons – Self Explanatory.

Thanks God my trains here so I can escape and get some fresh air.

Budget vs Bucket - April 2011

2011-04-27T08:17:00.001-07:00

So I was thinking about some of the things that I really would love to do and that seem out of reach at this point. So I came up with some budget alternatives.

Dream: Go swimming with Dolphins

Budget Equivalent: Go Swimming with Seaweed

Dream: Walk the Great Wall of China

Budget Equivalent:Walk on the wall behind Sainsbury’s

Dream: Be an extra in a Hollywood Movie

Budget Equivalent: Order extra Cheese on Margarita at Pizza Hut

Dream: Ride on the back of a Motorbike

Budget Equivalent :Ride the 32 route planner

Dream: Run a Marathon

Budget Equivalent :Run up credit cards

Dream: Break a Guinness world record

Budget Equivalent :Have a pint of Guinness

Fantasy: Turn back time and work things out with The American, marry him and have a family…

Hmm for everything else there’s Mastercard?

Bottom Gear (Then: Jan 2009)

2011-04-26T23:20:00.000-07:00

Between my cow of a boss at the BBC and living in the UK equivalent of Harlem I am struggling to keep my head above water. I think constantly about Jack and pray he is ok.

Finally I discover a way to get through the day. The Top Gear Office!

Its located at the BBC Media Centre on the second floor and one of those bizarre corridor type offices that open plan buildings tend to have. Anyone can wander through. It leads to a dead end corridor with two meeting rooms over looking the lobby. After going there one has to turn around and exit via the Top Gear Office. There is no reason whatsoever that I need to visit this area of the BBC every day. Apart from the fact the this office is Fascinating. When you walk through the door the Testosterone hits you the way the chlorine hits you when you go to an indoor swimming pool. You have to wade through it. The desks and floors are over spilling with weird engine part type things and gadgets. There’s paper all over the floor and best of all really really fit blokes just lounging around and discussing things that women like me don’t have a clue about like fast cars ;)

Anyway after my over bearing bosses ranting and raving and general spoilt brat behaviour. I just love soaking up the atmosphere and the pure escapism of it all. This office is like a tonic. I stroll through every day on my lunch break and have a coffee/read a magazine in the meeting room and then go back out again. The blokes in the office don’t bat an eyelid. Then they start to get used to me and just assume I work in the area (Why would they imagine that I was coming from Television Centre down the road just for the joy of eying them all up). Eventually Richard Hammomd started to recognise me and I would get a wink when I meandered through.

Current Affairs - April 2011

2011-04-26T11:36:00.000-07:00

I’m tired of hearing about the Royal Wedding. Honestly. I understand its lovely for the happy couple but for the normal women out here who are recently dumped its just irritating. I’m in a bad mood in general this evening. I’m trying to sell my flat. The Estate Agent calls me this Afternoon and tells me to drop the keys off. When I tell him I can get to the office before they close he suggests I put them through the letter box of the door in the shop front.

Sounds simple in theory. When I get to the high street there is a gang of youths hanging out in front of Kentucky Fried Chicken which is next door to the Estate Agent. Sitting on a bench at the bus stop are three old ladies chatting up an old man by offering tips about playing Bingo. They all eyeball me as I go up to the Estate Agent and fling my keys in an envelope through the letterbox. I start to walk away and then freak out. What if someone gets the envelope and follows me home and then knows where I live and they have the keys?

I retreat back and put my arm through the letter box and try and grab the envelope back out. This involves laying flat on my stomach amongst discarded chewing gum and poking my arm through the letter box fishing about wildly trying to grab the envelope which I can only graze tantalisingly with my fingers. I can feel the group of youths watching me interestedly and hear the group of pensioners making remarks about "The Peculiar Girl on the pavement". Eventually after about 5 minutes the old man from the bus stop comes over and pokes me in the ribs with his walking stick. "Here love use this" he says.. It works! Chivalry isn’t dead. I hook the envelope amid cheers from my audience and shamefaced I scuttle off clutching it to my chest. Now I have to go to the post office and mail the damn things tomorrow. Should have just left them there!

Lilypad Hopping (Then: Jan 2009)

2011-04-26T09:36:00.000-07:00

To make matters worse I had to find a new place to live again. I was still living in South London and terrified to get home after 9pm at night due to having been followed home by a group of drunk men as I exited the tube station one night. I wouldnt have minded so much had it been past midnight and I been dressed anywhere remotely like a hooker. But it had been barely 7pm and I was dressed in jeans and a checked shirt and had only been to Tescos. So since when was Laura Ingles with a bag of groceries so enticing?

I decided to look for a new place to live and ventured into the murky world of Gumtree. I made a snap decision and found myself living in a studio flat in North London. It was the first of many jumps from Lily pad to Lily pad as I would try and find an area that I could call home.

Blinded by the trivial ( Then: Jan 2009)

2011-04-25T23:38:00.000-07:00

A new year rolls around. Its been two months since I heard anything from Jack.

My boss at the BBC is a female Saturn who has tormented others before me to the point of taking off to escape her clutches. The final straw comes when the blinds break in her meeting room and she asks me to get them fixed. When ten minutes later they still arent mended she has a complete fit. She wants them mended "NOW". She takes over another meeting room down the coridoor and insists that the people booked in that room have to use hers with the "mangled blinds".

Wow. I knew that Television centre was known for producing Drama but this wasnt the sort that I had imagined.

No News (Then: Dec 2008)

2011-04-25T05:39:00.000-07:00

Its December 2008. I've heard nothing from Jack and my messages go unanswered. I know that he is in hospital in Washington DC and unable to walk, learning to use a wheelchair. I gather that from a facebook status update. He doesnt want to hear from me obviously.I torment myself over the fact that I didnt meet up with him when I had chance and that I wasnt interested in seeing him again when he tried so hard to set up another meeting.

Walter Reed (Then: Oct 2008)

2011-04-25T00:42:00.000-07:00

Jack has been very badly injured. His paracute didnt open properly and he fell at ridiculous speed before getting caught in trees about 60 feet tall. Then he fell the remainder of the way to the ground. Its a miracle he is alive. The doctors in Norway operated on him and rebuilt him as best they could. He has broken over 40 bones and been transfered to Walter Reed Hospital in Washington DC.

Horrific Twist of fate: (Then: October 2008)

2011-04-24T12:55:00.000-07:00

Jack gets back to the UK in October and he texts me straight away. I tell him that I will meet him the following weekend. We are going to see Wicked. It will be nice to have some company and I have been waiting to see that show for ages. Im still not in any mood for even contemplating a new relationship. But I need to get out and Jack has been very persistant.

He is going to Norway with work to do something with Training parachuters and nighttime skydiving. He says he will call me when he gets back.

I dont hear anything and several weeks pass. This is clearly unlike him. I drop him a message asking if he is ok and get the following reply.

"Everything is not good. I had a terrible accident four days ago. My parachute didnt open properly and am in hospital. Things arent looking too good. When I get better can I still get that second date?"

Wicked (Then: Aug 2008)

2011-04-24T09:57:00.000-07:00

Summer 2008 rolls around. I think longingly of the times I used to work at sea and spend the season sailing around Alaska. Now I am stuck working at BBC Television Centre which was designed in the 60's and in a state of disrepair. My desk is placed strategically next to a door which has been sealed of with a poster proclaiming cheerfully "Asbestos do not enter!". The building is riddled with mice. The highlight of my month was when the canteen started to serve carrot and corrianda soup at lunchtime. The lowlight was getting stuck in an elevator with Bruce Fortsyth for 20 minutes.

Im still pining over my Jewish ex. I read up on customs such as Hanukkah and Yom Kippur. I come to the conclusion that as cultures go, its not the most fun. And at the end of the day, you just cant pretend to be something that you arent. Yet it didnt stop me from wishing circumstances were different.

I was getting constant texts from Jack who wanted the follow up date that I had agreed to. My strategy was to mostly ignore him or be evasive. I didnt see the point of leading the guy on when I wasnt interested and only wanted friendship when it was obvious he wanted more. I didnt feel too bad about this as I had come to the conclusion that he was quite the player. He found out that I had never seen "Wicked" and that musical theatre was a passion of mine. I received many texts and messages offering to accompany to the show. In the meantime, photographs of him draped around various other chicks appeared on his facebook page which deepened my urge to stay clear of him. Finally I get a text from him at the end of August telling me he is going to Iraq and he is sitting at the airport thinking of me. Feeling guilty I agree to meet him when he gets back in October.

The Hard Rock Cafe (Then: July 2008)

2011-04-24T01:38:00.000-07:00

I meet Jack at The Hard Rock Cafe in London. I get there before him and sit in a booth. Ten minutes later he slips into the seat opposite me and I find myself looking into a pair of beautiful Tiger Eyes. He is nice. Im realxed and find him easy to be around- because Im still totally in love with someone else. He tells me about his ex girlfriend in the military. I tell him about my ex fiancee a helicopter pilot I met on cruiseships. We both agree that long distance is agony and destroys relationships. As he talks I decide that any woman would be crazy to get involved with this man. He has been nicknamed "Crazy Jack" because of his escapades in life. He has been on 3 tours on Afghanistan and Iraq and is about to go on a 4th. He is addicted to motorbikes and parachute jumping and once jumped 11 times in one day. Nice as a friend but trouble as a boyfriend no doubt. He tells me that he is being pursued by a lot of different women. I congratulate him.

Would I be interested in this man if I wasnt so attached to my Jewish ex I wonder? The answer was pure and simply no. I just wasnt really attracted to Americans and he wasnt pushing my buttons. But it was nice to be around someone and just be myself without the wory that you have when you want someone to like you.

After lunch Im ready to leave but he wants to do something else. I can tell he likes me. I dont want to lead him on but he is so sweet like an enthusiastic boy and so we walk through King James park past Buckingham Palace. Theres an awkward moment in the park when its apparent that he is considering kissing me. I get a bit paniced and divert him by pointing out an excessively fat duck...We walk further down to The River Thames and get a beer on the waterfront. I tell him that its time for me to go and make an excuse about having evening plans. He asks me if he can see me again and I agree but dont mean it. He walks ms right up to the gate at the Tube and I realise he is going to try and kiss me. I dont give him the opportunity and just hug him and dash off. I turn around at the top of the escalator and he is still watching me from behind the turnstile. I blow him a kiss.

Triple M (Then: July 2008)

2011-04-23T12:32:00.000-07:00

I had a good Jewish male friend who I was head over heels in love with when I first moved to London in 2008. I used to refer to him as MMM. We had a brief romance. I spent many many months hooked on this man but it was clear to me that we would not have a future together as I was not willing to to become Jewish and wouldnt want to raise children in a culture that I wasnt a part of. It eventually drove a huge wedge between us. Losing his companionship during a time when I was already struggling in a lonely city I felt completely lost and very down.

In the meantime the "The American" was messaging me on a regular basis on facebook asking when he would be able to meet me. After many months of pining over what could never be with MMM and needing a distraction I finally agreed to meet Jack for lunch after he told me that he was longing to find out what it sounded like when I laughed.. Clearly a line! But a winning one nevertheless...