Good Luck Chuck in reverse

hannah 2

Still single and I’m loving it…

Dear readers,

I am writing what will be the last dating blog of the series. I haven’t yet plucked up the courage to go on anymore dates or planned any!

Well, because I have decided that it is pointless.

However, whilst spending the weekend with my mother she pointed out that if I was going to go on a date with anyone they would probably be put off by this blog. To be honest she is probably right. My crude but yet amusing take on the dating world has probably ruined any chance of eternal happiness, puppies, a house in the country and four adorable children. Oh well shit happens.

In fact I have given up men for January. I have just starting writing about men which to be honest, has made me want a man more. Not ideal.

This is to add to the long list of other things I have given up including, alcohol and fun of any kind. The problem with January is that no one has any money. In the world of work you get paid 10 days earlier than you normally would due to the celebration of Christmas. Therefore in the month where alcohol, men and crap food is needed the most I have chosen fruit tea, exercise and healthy food. God help me.

This date was the most disappointing. After meeting this chap on Plenty of Fish and staring at his photos countless times I had decided geeky cute was for me.

I started the whole talking thing. It takes a lot of effort to talk. I have had the same conversation with so many men now maybe I should have a pre typed up script ready. Copy and paste. Interestingly this is how some male daters choose to go about it. I have had countless repeated messages copied word for word. Oh the joys of copying and pasting. My usual reply to the talented copier and pasting culprits is ‘Wow, what excellent copying and pasting skills you have….’

It turned out we lived nearby and he knew a few people I knew. This of course can be problematic. If he knows people I know then he could go off and do his own research. He could them get the obligatory ‘Hannah’s lovely but absolutely crazy!’ Something that does actually occur quite often. No surprise though – I am pretty crazy. I can’t quite work out if its good crazy or bad crazy yet. But time is indeed on my side at the moment…

We moved from the Plenty of Fish private chat function to texting and face-booking. He has passed my initial Facebook stalk test. However the unprecedented amount of photos with his ex-girlfriend had made me question him a little. Of course I was right, a recent break-up. I was probably the rebound. In fact I couldn’t be more right – could I?

But I thought I might as well try – if it didn’t go well I might as well put it down to experience and it was one for the blog.

In fact the blog was born from this very date.

Meeting up was increasingly difficult. What with me being so busy with work and he was busy doing university stuff. Yes I had decided to go for a student – lord knows why. What a bad idea. But there we go I though I should at least try something different.

I was getting sick of putting every experience down to being different. I mean how different did I need to go before I went mad.

One evening,  I received a bit of a drunken text message asking if he could meet me. It was midnight. I had just finished reading my book and was about to go to sleep. It was a school night you see.I thought I would live on the wild side. Yeah that’s me. Wild. Adventurous. Sexy… I live on the edge. Shut up Hannah.

The problem had been that he was too scared to meet me. I don’t think this is exactly good. A man is too scared to meet me. However, after having a drunk he had plucked up the courage to meet me…

He turned up swaying.

In fact he couldn’t stand. Shit I really shouldn’t have given him my address. But remember I was living on the wild-side…

He walked in and he was much shorter than me and unfortunately there was no connection at all. I have told you this all before you can tell straightaway. I had already let him over the threshold.  It’s sad because you waste all this valuable time talking about life with someone who became slightly significant for a while. Then they become a distant memory. Those text messages that were exciting to receive have now become yet another deleted phone number. With the phrase ‘I will just put it down the experience’ stamped in your mind and stored to the ‘let’s forget section’ of my brain.

We talked about life. He slurred his words. Drank all my bedtime water and passed out in my bed with all his clothes on.

Drinking all my bedtime water was a crime in itself. No one wants to get up out of your snuggle nest into the cold to replace it.

I wasn’t leaving my bed. Absolutely not.

I pushed him off my side. We all have a side we sleep on don’t we! He was on my side! Shame on him. Then I literally laid as flat and long as I could. It was like the Red Sea had parted and I was on the right side and off to freedom. He, on the other-hand,  was on the wrong side and would be punished for all eternity.

In the morning I made him toast and tea to help his hangover!

Fortunately, god was on my side,  he did remember that he had come to my house. It would have been horrific if he had woken up in a strange bed and not known where he was.

We chatted and then I thought I am going to have to be honest with you. ‘I am really sorry but you aren’t my type…’

He responded saying ‘ I agree but you have made me realise how much I miss my ex-girlfriend…’

Oh my god did he actually utter those words.

I am telling you now.

I am like chuck in the film Good Luck Chuck.

If you haven’t seen it. Then it is a heart-warming romantic comedy.  There is a man called Chuck. Chuck likes ladies. Chuck likes to sleep with ladies. Ladies sleep with Chuck because they hear he has a magical power that means the next person they meet or date will be the ‘ONE’

Let me point out I have not slept or kissed any of these men. Well if you count the passing out I shared a bed with one. However, I am the reverse of Chuck all these men meet me and realise what they have lost.

It has happened to me about 5 times. No joke.

I have also had my mum told me I should go on a date with you. Great. Well thanks for asking because your mum told you to.

Anyhow the morning turned into a relationship counselling morning, while he ate my provisions – biscuits and drank my tea.

Conversation was interesting. So what did you break up with your girlfriend?

I cheated on her with a man….

Wow, what could I reply?

‘I think you might be gay or bisexual?’

In my head and probably rather selfishly I was saying in my head…. ‘WHY ME!’ ‘EVERY SINGLE DATE I GO ON… SOMETHING GOES WRONG!’ ‘IS IT ME?’

I was polite of course. But to be honest, I wasn’t prepared or even qualified to deal with this or indeed did I have anything really to say. It was 8am. I don’t do mornings.

But bless him I could tell he loved this girl and he genuinely wanted to be with her. My heart went out to him. Surprisingly, I am pretty good with relationship advice. Well, meaning when it comes to other people I full of ideas, comforting words and advice. But, when it comes to taking advice – I never listen. To headstrong and stubborn. Some rather bad qualities of mine.

For the next hour I turned into what can only be called a counselling for the divorced who want to re-marry. I was nice and tried to be understanding.

But what had supposed to be a easy going meeting had turned into the Nightmare on Elm Street.


The man who didn’t sleep…


Hello my name is Hannah. After this date I am most definitely still 100% single…

Well if you thought the last date was terrible – they are getting worse. This one sinks to a new low.

Today I am sitting on the sofa,  back in my University home town, it was my first day back to work after Christmas and New Year – if I am honest I was pleasantly surprised.

I am snuggled in what I can only describe as a soiled duvet, unfortunately the only constant love in my life – is the rabbit and she decided that it was an excellent place to take a pee. Although I have cleaned the duvet but I can’t stop thinking about rabbit wee.

I am drinking Lemon and Ginger tea because I have given up normal tea in the name of white teeth and I just basically ate a whole Lindt Chocolate bear. As I have few pleasures left in life I am going to stuff my face. But after you have read this exciting dating experience you will let me off the large amounts of chocolate.

This was my third date but my second man. It was around July when the date debacle happened – because I remember setting up for University graduation and intermittently texting this man. Via text he seemed a lovely young man and easy to talk to. No mental problems and no issues in sight. However, daters be warned it is surprising how together people appear via the written word.

It was absolutely boiling hot outside and I was dressed in the smallest shorts – I think much to the disgust of the other members of staff I was working with. I am a lady but I have to say short shorts were on the cards because I was not and will not tolerate sweat. It makes me feel uncomfortable and then I end up getting more sweaty because I was uncomfortable because of the sweat which then makes me hotter. Yes you get the idea.

Anyhow,  I can’t even remember the man’s name so I have nicknamed him as the ‘man who didn’t sleep’. We finally arranged to finally meet that week. He had to drive quite far but it was nice to know someone was making an effort. I, on the other had lived less than two minutes from our meeting place.

I put the closeness down to safety measures. The middle class drinking pub thing where we had arranged to meet sell a variety of expensive cocktails, have miss-match furniture and a log fire projected on to a wall. By meeting men in this pub I was less than two minutes from my house and my housemate, Matt was just a prank call away. If I did indeed prank call Matt  ( yes I have had a lot of housemates)  he could be a hop, skip and a jump away. Save me from whatever I needed saving from or pretend to be a long lost friend or something.

My escape was planned. Daters always plan an escape.

Well ‘man that didn’t sleep’ turned up – I had an awkward job of spotting him to be fair – yes thats right because he didn’t look anything like his bloody photos on the dating site.

It was like playing Where’s Wally without  actually knowing what he looked like!!

After finding the mere shadow of the man I knew straight away when I met him that I was defiantly not attracted to him in any shape or form. The whole three second attraction was more like less than one second. I said ‘Hi’ and my mind said ‘absolutely not!’ Poor guy he didn’t stand a chance to begin with. However, he didn’t help himself at all….

Daters, you may find yourself in a similar situation and asking similar kinds of questions that I was asking as I sipped my coke… I had to be sober for this one.

These thoughts were going through my mind:

When can I leave?                    He doesn’t even look like he is supposed to = WHY?   

Did he have plastic surgery?     Oh god maybe he stole the photos off google?  

Who was the attractive man in the photos? Do I ask?     HELP?

                           When is it ok to leave?                 Maybe I should leave – I am never going to see him again?

How long do you actually have to sit with this man?                       Why me? Whyyyy?

You get the idea…

It was terrible. I haven’t even got to the conversation. I felt like I was sitting with my grandma. However, ironically this was a test I had decided that the younger men of my generation were terrible so I thought, well give this for a bunch of bananas and decided that 32 years of age was an excellent idea.

I ended up with a man who didn’t look like the man on the dating website, who had no personality and who was 32 years old but looked more like 40 – oh god maybe he was 40. Low point was an understatement.

Now to the conversation it was like a job interview for a job that pays peanuts and you don’t really care about but you know your mum wants you to at least try at getting it. But in this situation my mother would tell me to run away.

What do you enjoy doing? He asked.

Well I really enjoy playing sport, going to the gym, seeing my friends umm the usual really  What about you?…’ I reply

I don’t have time for hobbies….What are your favourite things to do – like at the weekend? No time for hobbies and excellent another boring question maybe I would turn to drink.

I love that feeling when you wake up on a saturday morning and you think you need to get up for work. Then you suddenly realise that you don’t have to get up and you can keep sleeping. I love that feeling especially when you drop in and out of sleep…I answered in the hope that we had some common ground – who doesn’t like to sleep.

 I get up at 5am everyday even at the weekend. How can you enjoy sleep – you aren’t awake and you cannot remember it… seriously this man got up everyday at 5am and didn’t like to sleep. Jesus mother of mary.

We argued for 45 minutes about sleeping. I have never been in a situation where someone had actually told me off for sleeping. It was like being at parents evening where the teachers always said ‘Hannah does not concentrate in class’ accept this time it was ‘Hannah sleeps far too much which is not acceptable…’

After he told me in depth why sleeping was not good and I should start everyday at 5am.

I am sorry I got up and left…

I have never walked out on a date ever but I just thought I am never going to see this man again.

I went to bed. I got up at 8am and I swear he would be hoping mad if he knew the other day I slept in till 10am!

What a sleep arsehole.

The curious incident of parental bathing in the night-time

Please note this photo is purely for entertainment and no one was hurt in the taking of this photo

Please note this photo is purely for entertainment and no one was hurt in the taking of this photo

Does anyone else’s parents bath at excatly 11pm?

I really never thought I would indeed sit down and write about my parents bathing scheduling – however last night whilst sitting down to a catch up dinner with my friend Ben from University, we both discovered that we weren’t alone and maybe you READER you too are ready to admit.

‘My parents bath everynight at 11pm’

At first I did think that the whole bedtime routine was completely and utterly strange, in fact I thought it only occured in my own household. It has occured for as long as I can remember. In the mean time I have grown up, been through school, university and now I am surviving on my own completely self-sufficient as well as I can safely say that I wash at completely different times of the day – well for now.

In fact, it would appear the 11pm bath schedule may indeed stretch the length and breadth of the country – well we hope?

So all of you out there it is time to own up – we all know it happens…

‘My parents bath everynight at 11pm’

I feel that it is important to get down to the true root of the problem and like any hardened journalist I will be asking the important questions and the questions that everyone is afraid to ask:

Where has this unbroken routine come from?

Has it been passed on through the generations?

Are we next to fall for this terrible illness?

Did our parents parents even have baths?

If you aren’t quite sure and are not sure how to diagnoise your parents as serial 11pm bathers – let me describe the symptoms – a bit like NHS Direct however easier, clearer and probably correct.

1. Dad runs the bath

2.  Mum gets in the bath (sometimes dad talks to mum while she is in the bath – WAHEYYY)

3. Mum leaves the bathroom

4. Dad takes Mums place in the bath (yes eco-friendly in this house)

The bath is then drained.

I know that there are other’s out there… you just need to own up.

‘My parents bath everynight at 11pm’

When I questioned the offenders in depth over a spot of middle class earl grey and mince pies (because its christmas) about their serious problem. I tried every journlistic trick in the book but unfortunately years and years of bathing at 11pm had got to them.

The only coherant answer I got between chewing and sipping was:

‘What other time would you wash?’

Point taken.

But still I cry for help.

‘My parents bath everynight at 11pm’