tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18502112530498092092024-03-14T05:26:59.093+00:00staying singleDumped again? Me? No way!
Read the story of Sophie Regan and how she made the tough decision to remain single for an entire year - and how this led her straight into a media spin, Richard & Judy's sofa, and ultimately - to the man of her dreams.... or not ..... ?alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.comBlogger117125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-60862590418425021772009-11-30T12:26:00.001+00:002009-11-30T12:27:51.364+00:00wordle grab of chapter 69 - the thigh's the limit<span style="font-size:180%;"> <a href="http://www.wordle.net/show/wrdl/1393032/Sophie_Staying_Single_-_Chapter_69" title="Wordle: Sophie Staying Single - Chapter 69"><img src="http://www.wordle.net/thumb/wrdl/1393032/Sophie_Staying_Single_-_Chapter_69" alt="Wordle: Sophie Staying Single - Chapter 69" style="padding:4px;border:1px solid #ddd" /></a></span><br /><br />Courtesy of <a href="http://www.wordle.net/">www.wordle.net</a>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-72502007549489971322009-11-26T14:03:00.002+00:002009-11-26T14:05:38.693+00:00Chapter 69 - The Thighs The Limit!!!Tam was gushing about the log cabin and Rob could feel the muscles in his cheeks twitching as he tried to hold his fake grin. <br />But she was relentless.<br />Unstoppable. <br />She'd gone from hugging him so tightly and thanking him for letting her go, to pacing the kitchen, uncorking a bottle of wine, dragging him to the sofa where she pushed a too-full glass into his hand, to grappling in her bag for her camera, turning it on and now she was racing through a series of snapshots of snow scenes.<br />And all without a breath!<br />So how come he was the one who felt suffocated?<br /><br />He couldn't get Sophie's 'Dilemmas' out of his head and that clip where she took Ade's hand and climbed into the helicopter with him was just replaying again and again and again in his mind. Torturing him.<br />"And Rob, you should have seen the fireplace in the cabin! It was colossal! And there's nothing as cozy as the sounds of the wood crackling and spitting and the flames were huge! It was just like one of those Christmas music videos. We need to go again next year as it would be just fantastic with a crowd. We could ask Sophie too. Honestly, she'll just love it! We just need a crowd of us!"<br />He grabbed his wine glass and downed the drink in one, standing abruptly and sliding his jacket on. Tam was surprised.<br />"Where you going?"<br />"Oh, I've, erm… gotta go."<br />"You're fumbling! What's up?"<br />"Nothing! I'm just tired and shit. You know. Long day. And I only came to get the heating on and stuff. Ready for when you got home."<br />Tam nodded toward her laptop, "and use the laptop?"<br />"Yeah," he realized he'd left it open at <a href="http://www.sophiedilemma/">www.sophiedilemma.com</a> and was pissed off about it, "yeah, to use your laptop." He walked toward it to close the open tab but Tam jumped up before him. <br />"S'ok. Leave it on. I need to catch up on some emails too. And I want to get some of these photos up on Facebook."<br />"No, it's ok. I need to log out of that site anyway," he bluffed, desperate for Tam not to see that he'd been following what Sophie was doing.<br />"Rob?" Tam stood in front of him. "Are you OK?"<br />"Yep. Fine."<br />"So why are you all jumpy and weird?"<br />"I'm not! Just tired. Look, let me just close down that page I was in."<br />Tam calmly walked across to her laptop and didn't see Rob cringing behind her. She bent to see what he'd been looking at, half fearing that it was something xxx-rated or some weird porn fetish site that she didn't want to look at OR think that her brother was into. He watched her as she bent and then stood, turning to face him.<br />"It's Sophie's stuff."<br />"Yep."<br />"Why are you looking at that?"<br />"Dunno."<br />"What is it? The first of her 4 'dilemma' dates?"<br />"Dunno. Yeah. Some crap like that."<br />Tam pressed <play> on the video and watched her ice skating with Ade and then both of them taking off in the helicopter together afterwards. She felt sick. It was weird.<br />"So….. Why are you looking at this?"<br />"Dunno."<br />And there was something about the sadness in his eyes, the sag of his shoulders that suddenly made sense.<br />"Oh… My…. God…. You're in love with her aren't you?"<br />"Yeah. And it's shit."<br />He slumped down onto the sofa and as Tam slumped down beside him she agreed,<br />"Too right it is…"<br /><br />*<br /><br />If my inner thighs could talk they'd be screaming in pain.<br />As if it wasn't tough enough, gripping for dear life with my hands, my legs were like steel rods as they tried to balance on the trapeze swing. <br />Jonny was great – which made the whole façade a little easier, but I'm now *officially* bruised both on the inside and the outside.<br />Ade managed to make me feel battered emotionally and Circus Space has seen to it that I have:<br />a bruise the shape of South Africa on my upper left arm<br />another bruise – a little more like China with perhaps Ireland joined on to it – just above my right boob (don't ask me how that got there!)<br />legs that refuse to climb up or down a staircase without turning to complete jelly. (My muscles are in total rigor mortis!)<br />blisters on the palms of both hands (from hanging on for dear life to the trapeze swing)<br />So.<br />There you have it.<br />A mess on all counts.<br /><br />To be honest, for a moment there I thought the aching thighs might have been from my sexual shenanigans with Ade. <br />And then I remembered.<br />He was crap.<br />And *it* didn't really happen.<br />Not in the real sense.<br />I have another 2 days until the next date and I know it's going to be hell as it's Ballroom Dancing with Hassan SomebodyOrOther. I desperately need some TLC and pampering before I take that on so perhaps this is the perfect moment to book my evening at the spa. I'm going to go for the whole shebang too. I wanted to book in for a leg and armpit wax for Mum's Christmas L.A wedding and I wanted a St Tropez session, so I think I'll go for a full body massage and wax and then book in the spray tan for next week.<br />I'll be a great tangerine, what with my orangey flecked dress too.<br />Mum will be delighted!<br /><br />Chapter Seventy<br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2009/11/chapter-68-swingers-mingers.html">Chapter Sixty Eight</a>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-11727341674859779992009-11-24T14:40:00.003+00:002009-11-26T14:06:14.734+00:00Chapter 68 - Swingers & Mingers<strong>Chapter 68 - Swingers & Mingers</strong><br /><br />I was right about Jonny. He was nice and easy-going and as soft and velvety as his black curls. Like a milk-bath, a vanilla-scented spa treatment or an afternoon with your favorite uncle - he was JUST what I needed. No fake laughter. No bull. We were both clumsy and awkward with the diabolo, either failing to catch the spinning object on half inch of string or sending it flying off at random angles.<br /><br />I have to admit, as predicted, I DID giggle. Especially when it nearly hit the loudmouth that I'd thought was Jonny. And, NOT as predicted, Jonny WAS funny. Not in a laugh-a-minute, joke-cracking way. More of a slightly 'off-the-wall', observant way. I didn't want to crack a smile and be predictable but I couldn't help it, what with his daft comments and playful jibes. He was a funny guy!<br /><br />Ross and Darren were slightly annoying as they kept stopping the cameras from rolling and asking me and Jonny to face left, or face right so that the angles and shots were good, but with Jonny's soothing way I soon found myself not so aware of them and, I have to admit, I actually DID start having some fun. The loudmouth turned out to be a regular at Circus Space and, I imagine was more of a clown in his real life than he could ever pretend to be in a circus. Of course, once the cameras were rolling he was drawn to the spotlight like a moth to the headlamps and it was only a matter of time before he started appearing, by 'accident', in the background. Jonny could see that Ross and Darren were getting annoyed and handled it expertly, turning to face the guy and charming him into the action.<br /><br />"Hey, c'mon over here. You look like you know what you're doing."<br /><br />Of course he was delighted and couldn't get close to us quick enough.<br /><br />"Right," Jonny smiled, "show us how you do it."<br /><br />And the guy obliged. With each hurl of the bean-filled juggling balls he mutated into the clown. And with the camera crew zooming in on Jonny and his new friend, at least it took the pressure off of me!<br /><br />"You're a natural!" Jonny encouraged him.<br /><br />"Thanks!" he guffawed.. And then proceeded to mutate into that clown even more. I glanced down to notice his wide-legged stance to see that his feet were huge! All he needed was the red nose.<br /><br />"Hey," he chortled, mid-juggle, "why won't cannibals eat clowns?"<br /><br />"What?" Jonny frowned at him, and then us, and then back at him again.<br /><br />"Because they taste funny!"<br /><br />We all rolled our eyes but the camera was specifically on ME when I did. Just my luck. Bet I look ridiculous!<br /><br />Our collective groan clearly didn't deter him, as he rolled out another line,<br /><br />"You know, my dear departed uncle was a circus clown before he died…"<br /><br />Suddenly he stopped juggling and stood, motionless, the juggling balls cupped in his hands as the animated version of him ceased and we saw his shoulders sag as he stared down at the floor.<br /><br />That makes sense then! It's all falling into place. It's obvious now! His uncle was a circus clown and he wants to continue the family tradition. I can just imagine him as a kid, sitting in the big top clapping and grinning, full of pride for the funny uncle, the favorite clown in the entire troupe. A little boy, like in those Hovis adverts, in his hand-knitted, woollen jumper, clapping and cheering louder than any child in the crowd….<br /><br />Just as I began to feel a little empathy for the guy he broke his trance and spoke, his voice quiet this time….<br /><br />"Yeah… He was a great circus clown before he died. I remember all his friends came to the funeral in one car!"<br /><br />We paused. Then it sank in. And the guy burst into life again, laughing as he shouted, "Honk Honk!" in a loud nasal impression of a car hooter.<br /><br />He was awful.<br /><br />Nobody laughed.<br /><br />And then just when we thought we were stuck with him Jonny surprised me by grabbing my hand and pulling me over to the trapeze net and ladders.<br /><br />"OK, so who's going first?" he smiled at me. He has the most stunning blue eyes. I can't help but notice.<br /><br />"Not me!"<br /><br />"OK, let's go up together. That ladder looks scary."<br /><br />"I don't want to go up there! It's too high."<br /><br />"C'mon," he took my hand and squeezed it, "let's go up together." Then he leaned in so close to be out of the microphone pick up zone and whispered, "and we ARE supposed to be on a 'date'. At least let's flirt a bit, hey?"<br /><br />He's lovely.<br /><br />"OK," I agreed and took his hand as the cameras followed our steps to the base of the high ladder leading to the trapeze swings.<br /><br />*<br /><br />I squealed at the trapeze - my god, they are just SO high. It's been years since I've been on a playground swing, never mind perched on a thin rod suspended 50 feet in the air. Net or no net - I was petrified! Of course, I fell. About 9 times. And Jonny was there, at the side of the huge bouncy net to help me down. In a strange way it was all rather therapeutic. The suspending myself in the air, the concentration required to try and juggle three balls at a time… It was almost like those team-building events where, regardless of the egg-heads you work with, you still come away feeling a little better about yourself, slightly more at peace with who you are.<br /><br />And I have.<br /><br />Jonny has, unbeknown to him, restored my temporary loss of faith in menkind.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2008/01/chapter-sixty-seven-dont-crack-your.html">Chapter Sixty Seven </a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2009/11/chapter-69-thighs-limit.html">Chapter Sixty Nine</a>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-17758586053864049482008-01-28T22:03:00.000+00:002008-01-28T23:03:02.404+00:00Chapter Sixty Seven - don't crack your cheekbonesFake smiles.<br />Canned laughter.<br />Forced hilarity.<br />It's all bullshit.<br />And that's what this date is going to be.<br />The last thing I want to be doing tonight is going out with a comedian. The 'funny guy'. Like salt in the wound his cheesy grin and slapstick crap is just going to make me feel worse. In the shadow of the Ade fiasco this is painful.<br />Jonny Kowlowski? Never heard of him. He's an 'up-and-coming' comedian. Whatever that means. And so I'm standing, trying to take deep breaths of the stinging, cold night air as I brace myself outside Circus Space.<br />OK.<br />I'm going in.<br /><br />I spot him immediately. The wiry guy standing by the crash mats, hands on hips as he guffaws whilst dropping 3 juggling balls.<br />Idiot.<br />Doesn't say much for his sense of humour if THAT makes him laugh.<br />And why are comedians NEVER good-looking? Name me one! Is it a kind of warped chicken-and-egg syndrome? Are they funny because they've HAD to be? Or does their ugliness simply add to their funniness?<br />Funniness? Is that a word....<br />I don't want to go over there and I'm relieved to notice Ross and Darren, fumbling about with their video equipment near the back wall. Thankful for something resembling a half-friendly face, I walk across to them, nearly getting my head chopped off by a passing trapeze artist swinging particularly low.<br />"Careful!" she shouts at me as she tarzans her way across the room.<br />I mumble under my breath at her. I sound like <a href="http://www.buzz.mn/files/images/muttley.jpg">Muttley </a>from the cartoons.<br /><br />I'm wondering who the curly-haired guy is with Ross and Darren. Probably an assistant or something, or maybe our contact at Circus Space. He has that friendly look to him. You know, the kind of look that makes you know you'll feel comfortable with him. His dark curls resemble the <a href="http://www.lee-mead.com/">guy who won Andrew Lloyd Webber's Joseph</a> competition and he looks casual and relaxed in his rugby polo shirt and jeans. They look up at me as I get closer.<br />"Sophie!" he smiles a dazzling wide smile and reaches out his hand to shake mine.<br />"Hi." I can't help but smile back but when Ross and Darren both stand to greet me I have to admit that I'm cringing as I wonder whether they know what a shit Ade was after the last date.<br />"OK?" I announce bravely, "what we doing then? I've seen him already. Over there making a complete fool of himself. I hope you're not expecting me to continually laugh at his crap jokes, cos I'm really not in the mood."<br />Darren smiles a strange smile at me, "No. We're not expecting that. Not at all. Em, what are YOU expecting Sophie?"<br />I shrug, a stroppy teenager refusing to make eye contact, "Well by the way he's carrying on over there I doubt he's going to be a laugh a minute is he? But don't they say that's always the way with comedians? They try so hard to be funny all the time that they're actually boring as hell?"<br />The assistant placed his arm around my shoulders as he leaned toward me and whispered in my ear, his curls tickling my cheek, "I promise I won't try to be a laugh a minute. Although I can't guarantee that you'll find it hilarious watching me try the static trapeze and tight-rope walk."<br />Frowning, I turn to face him. "Sorry?"<br />"I didn't get the chance," his voice was deep but soft as he extended his hand once again, "Jonny Kowlowski. 'Up-and-coming' comedian who doesn't continually tell crap jokes or make a complete fool of himself. At least, not all of the time."<br />I feel myself blush. Furiously.<br />"Oh."<br />"Yeah," he smiled, "oh. No problem. But I have to say, I'm rather disappointed that you thought I'd look like HIM over there!"<br /><br />Maybe this won't be the disaster that I'd expected. Jonny seems relaxed and at ease with himself and as I watch him taking in the diabolo spinners, the jugglers and trapeze artists I come to the conclusion that this date might actually be fun. I'm not sure that he knows about the grand gestures and horrendous date I had with Ade, maybe he knows that I'm feeling fragile and running on empty, but maybe he doesn't.<br /><br />Either way, he seems like easy company.<br /><br />And that's a great first step...<br /><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2008/01/chapter-sixty-six-roll-up-roll-up.html">Chapter Sixty Six</a><br />Chapter Sixty Eightalisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-60416689104571158012008-01-20T19:36:00.000+00:002008-01-28T22:29:40.011+00:00Chapter Sixty Six - Roll Up, Roll Up!<span style="font-size:100%;">In theory, this should be easy. After all, I've spent my life keeping spinning plates, juggling my social life and balancing my work life.<br />So here we go - a few deep breaths and I'm going in.<br />Circus Space?<br />Bring it on!<br /><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/08/chapter-sixty-five-juggling-act.html">Chapter Sixty Five</a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2008/01/chapter-sixty-seven-dont-crack-your.html">Chapter Sixty Seven</a></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-72955301744709339832007-10-09T17:16:00.000+00:002007-10-09T17:19:11.678+00:00I'm Back....Phew, that was a long break.<br />Severely traumatised and extremely nervous, it's taken me this long to get my head together.<br />And I apologise.<br />But I'm back...<br /><br />It's gonna be fun catching up again....<br /><br />Sophie.xxxalisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-68574363590673875712007-08-01T22:11:00.000+00:002008-01-20T19:44:51.585+00:00Chapter Sixty Five - Juggling Act & Spinning PlatesThe afternoon I’ve just had at work has been the hardest ever! I feel completely rejected and downtrodden. I can’t eat, I can’t drink, I can’t smile or even answer the phone properly. I have absolutely NO conversation and even AJ’s smirking isn’t grating on me like it usually does. I know that Delaney had sussed that something was wrong. It was blatantly obvious anyway, but I think she guessed that I’d spent the night with Ade. She even looked at me sympathetically a few times, but that steely glint still left me in no doubt that I have to see this next date through. I’m so emotionally fragile and keep crying, which is made worse by Delaney’s sales pitch. She called me into her office and starting hyping me up in preparation for the next dilemma tomorrow! As if I didn’t have enough of a dilemma to contend with at the moment. The brief is this - I have a date with up and coming comedian Jonny Kowlowski, and guess where we’re going? To <a href="http://www.thecircusspace.co.uk/pages/quicklaunch/qlskills.htm">The Circus Space, near Old Street </a>tube station! Fuck, how could this be worse? I feel as shit as I do - broken and busted up, sick at myself for giving myself to Ade so easily and making a complete fool of myself and believing that he liked ‘me’ and, and and......<br />And now.<br />I have to pretend that it’s laughs all the way.<br />I have to learn to juggle and ride a unicycle and walk a fucking trapeze.<br />With a comedian.<br />Shit.<br /><br />*<br />One hot bath and 2 glasses of wine haven’t helped me to relax or feel remotely better about things. I hate Ade for doing this to me, but hate myself too for falling for it all. HOW could it have been just insincere words to him? How? I feel shattered and am having serious trouble remembering that he’d said he was looking for something ‘different’, as my brain continues to recount his words as looking for something ‘better’! I’d NEVER have got into that situation with him if it hadn’t all been reinforced by the foundations of a relationship. It had taken a big leap for me to feel comfortable enough to get naked with him - and now look! I knew he was a player but didn’t dream that he was playing ME! What was behind all that about making it up to me? Why the helicopter and stuff? Did it mean that much to him to prove a point? Or was it because he couldn’t handle the fact that I really liked him too much? I was being a hundred percent genuine.<br />And he was simply taking the piss.<br /><br />*<br /><br />Tam’s cab pulled up outside her house and she was warmed to see the lights on inside. Rob had said he’d call in and turn on the heating but she wasn’t expecting him to still be there.<br />“Fantastic!“ she squeezed her rucksack in excitement, “he is SO the best brother in the entire world dot com. I can’t wait to tell him how gorgeous the log cabin was.“<br /><br />The sounds of Tam shuffling in through the front door and dragging her luggage behind her broke Rob’s concentration. He’d been lured by her computer and, despite being glued to <a href="http://www.sophiedilemma.com/">www.sophiedilemma.com</a>, he wished he’d never turned it on. He knew she had her second date tomorrow and wondered how things could possibly get worse? He’d watched her slow dancing with Adrian Ford and saw the helicopter landing and her hesitating. And then he’d felt sick as he watched her catch Adrian’s hand and get into the chopper with him as they’d been filmed taking off and flying off into the London night sky. He was having trouble watching this and knew now that he could never compete with a connected guy like Adrian. He thought Sophie had been somebody that he could rely on and thought he knew her - how wrong he was. He hated the whole cosy notion of Christmas too and was having problems walking past the florist shop down the road, loaded with sprigs of <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">mistletoe</span> and <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">Christmas bouquets</span>. He’d had such high hopes for their first Christmas together and was gutted that he’d had to give the log cabin treat to his sister. And here she was - with a huge smile on her face as she stood ready to tell him all about it. He took a deep breath before fixing a smile on his face and spinning around on the chair to face her.<br />“Hey Tam,” he breezed, “how was Scotland?”<br />“Oh Rob, you really SHOULD have been there. It even snowed! It was SO romantic....”<br /><br />*<br /><br />OK, so tonight is my next date and I feel even more crap today than I did yesterday. I hardly slept at all last night and have called in sick today. Delaney had been shocked when I‘d told her,<br />“I‘m sorry, but if you want me to go on this date tonight, then I can‘t come in today. I have to get my head together. I‘m sorry.”<br />Her silence had shocked me. I‘d never known her lost for words. And so I‘d continued, in a calmer tone,<br />“I need to sort a few, em, ‘things‘. In my head. And I am finding it difficult to concentrate. I need some time. To prepare. Ha ha, and to, em, dust off my red nose and leotard maybe?”<br />Her voice was unexpectedly calm and balanced,<br />“Sophie. Take the day. You need some time to recover from Tuesdays, er, ‘date‘. I know. I understand. Go for it. Maybe get some sleep and perhaps a couple of hours in the beauty salon might help you to relax? A nice massage and facial maybe? We need you at <a href="http://www.thecircusspace.co.uk/pages/quicklaunch/qlskills.htm">The Circus Space</a> for 6pm. OK? Ross and Darren will be there too. See you then.”<br />Which was really nice of her.<br />I tried to take her advice and climbed back into the soft warmness of my bed, willing myself to catch up on some more sleep. After all, when I’m sleeping then I can’t torment myself with the same old questions that I have no answers for. My eyes are clamped closed and yet a faceless voice relentlessly asks me the same tirade of questions:<br />How can a guy go from talking about all the things he wants to do with me, all the places he wants to take me, to the sending a text message saying that he’s looking for something ‘different’? I mean what was it about me? That spot on my arse cheek? My slightly jibbly tum? Was i too unparticipative in bed? No! I wasn’t, I know I wasn’t!<br />How dare he say he’s looking for something different! And there I was, ready to be so understanding at his lack of technique and ultra skinny willy!! I was even prepared to put up with his small dick and crap sexual techniques! I was all up for working on the small stuff over the following weeks, but now I’ve been ceremoniously dumped AND am plagued with the horror that I might be BIG ‘down there’!<br /><br />I am having to accept that I will never be able to fathom what changed from that long night together in Ade’s arms and how we were together that following morning - to how things shifted that afternoon and that sudden, bizarre rejection.<br /><br />All I want is a friend.<br />All I want is Rob.<br />To hold me and hug me.<br />To tell me that everything will be OK.<br />And that Adrian is a TOTAL arsehole - just as he’d always told me.<br /><br />But there is no Rob.<br /><br />There is nobody.....<br />No shoulder to cry on.<br />No Rob.<br />No.<br />Rob.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-sixty-four-unclear-fallout.html">Chapter Sixty Four</a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2008/01/chapter-sixty-six-roll-up-roll-up.html">Chapter Sixty Six</a></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-25100629063334339182007-07-30T21:56:00.000+00:002007-08-01T22:15:08.827+00:00Chapter Sixty Four - Unclear FalloutWe wake again at about 9am, still snuggled in the spoons position, his hands cupping my boobs. We’re so cosy, our contours fitting perfectly, that I don’t want to move but I feel his breathing change and know that he’s awake too. I don’t want the magic to end but the day has begun and the mood has already slightly shifted.<br />“You gotta go work today?“<br />“Ugh, yeah!“ I reply to his question and realise that everybody will know that I spent the night with Ade. My customary lateness never exceeds 15 minutes, so walking in after 10 ‘o’clock will be like wearing a sandwich board, emblazoned with ‘YEAH! I DID IT!“. Embarrassing.<br />I ask Ade the same question and he tells me that he has to be at work too.<br />Great - now BOTH of our offices will know that we spent the night together.<br />If only they knew that it was hardly the shag-fest that they’re probably imagining.<br />In reality, as much as I like him, sexually - it was hardly worth it. We’ll get it right though; given a little time.<br />Ade yawns,<br />“Jesus, I’m knackered,” he pulls me tight to him again in a bear hug and his chest hair feels prickly against my back, “I wish we could stay here all day.”<br />“Hmmm,” I murmur, “me too. But we’re late enough as it is. It’s going to be a tough day and I’m going to need to stop at Starbucks for a massive strong coffee to keep myself awake until lunchtime.”<br />He groans and lets me go, pulling the sheets over his head as I walk towards the bathroom.<br /><br />*<br /><br />Today at work was tough, as I’d expected. After showering and calling in at home for a swift change of clothes, it felt strange arriving at the office together - us both going our separate ways at the lifts. It made me feel a bit awkward in front of Ellie, who gave us both a smirk in that I-miss-nothing way that only receptionists can. I’d hardly taken off my jacket before Delaney whisked me into her office to show me the video footage that was filmed at the rink last night - was it ONLY last night! - and I’m relieved to find that I don’t look overly fat/clumsy/idiotic/needy/ridiculous. They’ve already loaded it to the www.sophiedilemma.com site but have cut off the action at the point of me stressing over whether to go with Ade or not. It’s going to be interesting to see what the public think I should have done.<br />If only they knew that I’d already gone off in the helicopter with Ade AND had spent the night with him in The Dorchester.<br />I wonder how many of them will tell me to go with him?<br /><br />I’m glad to be home and feel sick with tiredness. I’ve been desperate to text or call Ade all day. Maybe a cheeky text to ask whether he’s as tired as I am or a secret email checking that he hasn’t fallen asleep at his desk. I restrained myself rather well and now, as I dig into my bowl of pasta and Dolmio sauce my stomach leaps with the buzz of my mobile.<br />It’s a text.<br />From Ade.<br /><br /> <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:times new roman;" > Hey u! Been half<br /> asleep </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >all day.<br /> Early nite 2nite.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:times new roman;" > How r u? x</span><br /><br />I reply immediately,<br /><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:verdana;" >Me 2. Going<br /> bed soon.</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:verdana;" > How<br /> was work? x</span><br /><br />I manage to fork in another 3 mouthfuls between replies. He comes back with,<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:times new roman;" > Work was shite. Going<br /> bed </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >now. 2 sleep this time ;) x</span><br /><br />Warmed by his mentioning that we were up all night, I reply,<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" > Yes. We were a bit </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" ><br /> naughty weren’t we? </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" ><br /> Nice tho wasn’t it... x</span><br /><br />And there’s no reply. I finish my bowl of pasta and continue to check my phone as I go to the bedroom and strip off. As I climb between the chilly sheets I wish I’d pulled my cosy pyjamas from the ironing pile but am too distracted by the silence screaming from my mobile! Scrolling through the menus I find that it’s over half an hour since I sent my last message. Either he’s fallen asleep or he’s ignoring me. I can’t help myself as I key in,<br /><br /> <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" > Oi! No reply? x</span><br /><br />I feel a little sick at his lack of response but sleep soon overwhelms me and I’m gone. A deep warm sleep that’s way overdue....<br /><br />*<br /><br />Rob sits in Tamsin’s lounge flicking through her TV channels. She’s only been away a few days and yet the house has a chill to it already. She’s due to return from her log cabin break tonight and he’d promised to call in with some milk and to turn on the heating for her. He hates waiting and is tormented by her computer, sitting, staring at him from it’s corner. He knew that Sophie’s dilemmas had started this week and as much as he hates the idea of WATCHING her on a date with another guy he can’t hold himself back. Almost robotically he finds himself walking toward the computer and pressing the ‘ON’ button. He was going to have to watch and see what happened.<br /><br />*<br /><br />I wake before my alarm clock and for a fleeting few seconds I feel a contentment; a serenity that comes with those first moments of the day between sleep and awake. And then a ball of doubt bounces in my stomach as I recall my text message to Ade that was left hanging last night. Grappling for my phone beside my bed I flip it open to check for a reply. Still nothing.<br />Damn.<br />And I have to go into work today and talk to Delaney about the second date. WHICH, by the way, is tomorrow night. I’ve hardly had the chance to get over date 1 before I’m going out on date 2. But then again, it didn’t mention anywhere in the small print that I was supposed to jump into bed with one of the guys and REALLY complicate the issue!<br /><br />I manage to wait until lunchtime before I text Ade. I can’t help myself and know that I probably shouldn’t, but I’m eaten up by his silence and tormented that he thinks I’m an easy ride - given how I was seduced by him into sex, albeit that I feel that this is going to be the beginning of a great relationship. I try to be chipper and send him,<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" > Hey Ade. That was all </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" ><br /> a bit bonkers last night.<br /> </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" >How about we go out and </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" ><br /> get to know each other properly. x</span><br /><br />I feel a little sick when he replies,<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:times new roman;" > Yep, could go out. But </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >I don’t want<br /> to waste ur time. x</span><br /><br />and some alarm bells begin to ring somewhere in the far distance of my brain. I’m being a bit slow, probably due to slight lack of sleep and the trauma to my body of having sex for the first time in months and months, so I text him,<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" > How wld u b wastin my </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" ><br /> time? I don’t make a habit</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" > of<br /> spending nite with guy I don’t like! </span><br /><br />And then it hits me. I’ve made a massive mistake. My stomach lurches and every nerve ending in my body is wincing as I wait for his non existent response. There is none, so I follow up with,<br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" > Have I just read that wrong. </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" >Is<br /> that a polite way of saying </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" >u<br /> don’t want 2 take things </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" >further?<br /> Best 2 b honest. </span><br /><br />And then it comes. The drop-kick in the chest and I have to sit down to prevent my legs from folding beneath me. I read his words but they don’t register in my head. I suppose it’s disbelief...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:times new roman;" > Sorry 4 not being direct.<br /> Not </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >want 2 take further as<br /> lookin </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >4 something different</span><br /><br />I am truly devastated.<br />Gutted and broken.<br />My head is spinning as if there isn’t enough blood to circulate.<br />He....is....looking.....for.....something.....DIFFERENT!<br />Different to what?<br />Different? Or BETTER?<br />Younger? Older? Thinner? Fatter? Harder to get???<br />Shit.<br />My eyes are filling with tears and yet I’m not pulling that gurning face that I usually do when I cry. It’s as if my eyes are crying FOR me. A huge teardrop splashes down onto my mobile phone and slides from the screen, disappearing down between the keys.<br />I have to reply...<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" > Wow. Now I feel crap.<br /> Thanks </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" >4 being honest.<br /> Kick in the guts </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" >always teaches<br /> a lesson eh? </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;" >I’m gutted u did this.<br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-sixty-three-first-time-nerves.html">Chapter Sixty Three</a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/08/chapter-sixty-five-juggling-act.html">Chapter Sixty Five</a></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-29415006969827176612007-07-29T22:43:00.000+00:002007-07-30T22:10:05.646+00:00Chapter Sixty Three - First Time Nerves?I wake up to find myself still in Ade’s arms and still fully clothed. The room is still and quiet, and as strange as it is, I subconsciously know it’s the early hours of the morning. I look up at his face as he sleeps. His muscles are relaxed and his mouth slightly open. He looks so vulnerable and I’m cherishing this intimate moment with him. I twist in his arms and check his watch - 2.48am. I was right. Early hours. My fidgeting has woken him and when I feel his hot breath at the back of my ear it shoots goosepimples straight across my chest.<br />“Hmmmm,“ he moans, “you feel lovely.“<br />It feels so natural with him. I know it’s a cliche, but I know this is right. I can’t help but remind myself that it would never have worked with Rob anyway - a relationship coming from a friendship would mean that we know each other on a different level; and then there will always be the Tamsin connection. It’s potentially too messy, whereas with Ade, we both have similar careers and understand the vagaries of working in the magazine industry. He’s quirky - my ideal man. Strong and opinionated, yet professional and in tune with his feminine side. We could be a fabulous couple - both journalists and both striving forward for a lucrative future. My thoughts are interrupted as he moves in to kiss me. His tongue is slightly jabbing again as he starts to part my lips with his. It’s a strange feeling - almost as if he’s in a hurry - but this could be a match made in heaven. The kissing just needs a little work. He groans a little as he kisses my neck and says,<br />“Sophie Regan. I so want to make love to you. And then I want to fuck you. And then I want to make love to you again.“<br />My tummy flips, causing a twinge between my legs and a fast pulse in the side of my neck. He gently but firmly pushes me onto my front and I turn my head to the side so as to not suffocate in the plump pillow.<br />“Are you OK? A little tense?”<br />I giggle.<br />“Come on,” his voice is a husky moan, “I’m going to give you a back rub.”<br />And with that he is pulling my top up to reveal my back and I fidget as it gets caught and tangled. As I raise myself a little he whips my top up and over my head and arms, leaving me laying there in my bra. His hands are firm on my back as he begins to make random sweeping movements across my shoulders.<br />“I’m going to open your bra strap. It’s in the way.”<br />And I feel the weight of him, sitting across my bum, as he fiddles with my bra strap. An absurd amount of time passes and I’m increasingly embarrassed for him as he fumbles for way too long.<br />“Ohhh,” he moans, and I can hear the humiliation in his voice, “I can’t open these things. Can I rip it?”<br />“No!” I shriek, “here, I’ll do it.” And I find myself reaching back and opening my own bra strap.<br />The back rub is a little clumsy and far from relaxing and so I am relieved and disappointed when he stops and rolls off of me, to lay beside me once again.<br />“OK, now you do me. Please?”<br />“OK.”<br />He makes no attempt to grope for my bare breasts or even to look at me, semi-naked on the bed with him.<br />Rolling onto his stomach he buries his face into the pillow and waits for me to return the back-rub favour.<br />“Dig your nails in,” he orders. “Really hard. Really dig them in and scratch me.”<br />“I can’t do that!”<br />“Yes you can. I love it.”<br />“But I don’t wanna HURT you!”<br />“It won’t. Just do it.”<br />And so, feeling rather ridiculous, wearing my jeans and nothing else, I straddle his back and begin to scratch him from shoulder blades to waist. The red track lines appear instantly and I’m not feeling great about this. I can only do this for a short while and before long I lay my nakedness down onto his back and hug him.<br />“I can’t do that any more. Your back is so red. I don’t like it.”<br />“OK,” he slightly grumbles and turns himself over beneath me, grabbing my hips and pulling me high over him so that my right boob is dangling near to his face.<br />He takes it in his mouth.<br />Once again I wait for the zinging pings of excitement to zip through me.<br />They don’t.<br />I look down at him, his eyes closed as he sucks and licks on my nipple.<br />It’s bordering on breastfeeding.<br />My face is ridiculously close to the headboard and I’m staring at it at close range.<br />Bored.<br />And I’m feeling zilch.<br />Freaky.<br />What IS wrong with me?<br />Thankfully he stops after a short while and rolls me down and onto my back so that he is now towering over me and smiling. He is so gorgeous and the fact that he is a little clumsy and awkward is strangely endearing - as if he’s not this ‘super-stud’ who lives up to his ‘Ade Gets Laid’ image. He comes down to kiss me again and I can feel ‘him’ hard and bulging as he pushes down on me.<br />“Sorry,” he whispers as he licks and sucks my neck, “I’m a little out of practice.”<br />“S’ok,” I murmur, “you’re lovely.”<br />And I mean it.<br />And his kisses on my neck and across my chest become more frantic and needy and I feel myself panting and wanting to hold him so close to me. He raises my legs up onto his shoulders and then I feel him unbuttoning my jeans and grasping them tightly by my belt. I squeak in a little protestation as he tugs them and in one movement pulls my jeans and g-string from my legs.<br />“My god Ade,” I whisper, “I’m completely naked now.”<br />“Yeah,” he grins, a wicked twinkle in his eye, “I know.”<br />“We can’t do this. It’s not right. Not so quick.”<br />“Course we can. You feel so good. I’m nuts about you.” And then he lowers himself down onto me again and kisses me, those tongue-jabby movements not improving.<br />I can feel his exposed flesh on the insides of my thigh and I feel a slight panic.<br />“Ade. No. We can’t do this. This isn’t right.“<br />And he hushes me with some more kisses and before I know it I can feel him inside of me!<br />It feels strange.<br />It’s been so long since I’ve been this close to a guy, but I know for a fact that I’ve never felt a dick so skinny!<br />I’m aware that I’m clenching my muscles ‘down there’ but it has little effect.<br />This is horrendous!<br />I look up at him, frowning and pumping and we hold the eye contact as he smiles at me and then lowers himself to kiss me once again.<br />But I’m just not feeling this moment.<br />It’s not worth it.<br />I didn’t really want it.<br />But isn’t the first time ALWAYS awkward?<br />And wasn’t it inevitable that I was going to be a little disappointed? After all, I’ve fancied him so much and for so long, wasn’t I destined to be disappointed? Be realistic, it’s never like it is in the movies, is it!<br /><br />*<br /><br />He gives up shortly after, probably realising that there was going to be no wave-crashing, earth-shattering resolution to this. So he lays beside me, his glorious tanned and hairy chest rising and falling rapidly as he begins to regulate his breathing.<br />I rest my head on his chest, slowly twirling my finger around his nipple, watching it pucker and tighten. His hands feel tender, stroking my hair lovingly and then he says,<br />“You got any toys?“<br />“Yeah,“ I grin to myself, “I have a little red car and a Barbie doll - but I don’t get to play with them much.“<br />He doesn’t laugh, but carries on with,<br />“I could use them on you. Bring them around next time we’re together and I’ll play with you with them.“<br />“Yeah,“ I smile to myself, contentedly, “I’ll do that.“<br />Then he pulls me up to face him, kisses me slowly and I fall asleep once again to the feeling of him gently stroking my face and hair....<br /><br />*<br /><br />We wake again and the mood in the room is different. I can hear the wood pigeons ‘coo coooo, coo coooo’ing’ outside and the sound of slightly increased traffic flow. I’ve turned in my sleep and have my back to him, my knees tucked up and almost in the foetal position. He wakes me with his hands on my bare bum, squeezing it and rubbing it sensually,<br />“Hmmmmm, this gives me an idea of what I could do to you later on.”<br />I straighten my legs and turn to face him,<br />“I’ve gotta go to the bathroom.”<br />He hugs me tight and closes his eyes, “No.”<br />“I have to.”<br />“No. You’re not going anywhere.”<br />I laugh and try to wriggle away, “Ade! I have to go.”<br />“Nope.”<br />“Ade?”<br />His eyes are clamped shut and he is hugging me so tightly that I can’t get away.<br />“Nope. You’re not going anywhere. I’m keeping you here with me forever.”<br />But I manage to tickle him into submission and make my bare-arsed exit for the bathroom.<br />I return to the bed to find that he’s ready for some more of me and am disappointed to find that his technique is no better the second time around.<br />He is sexually clumsy and rather immature, which shocks me, given his iconic Geezer magazine status. But I really like him and I’m looking forward to spending more time with him, doing all the things that he’s suggested - like going for meals to his favourite Chinese restaurant, chilling out at his place, playing with my sex toys and really getting to know each other. The sex stuff? We can work on that. His severe lack of fineries is something that I can educate him on.<br />Ade Ford, despite his lack of sexual prowess, could actually make me consider shelving the entire notion of staying single for another 14 weeks. I mean, if I’ve found what I’m looking for - if I have a man that is ticking (virtually) all the boxes, then why jeopardise that for the sake of a stupid magazine column?<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-sixty-two-contended-bliss.html">Chapter Sixty Two</a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-sixty-four-unclear-fallout.html">Chapter Sixty Four</a></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-88431402940148280692007-07-28T23:30:00.000+00:002007-07-28T23:40:20.731+00:00Chapter Sixty Two - Contended BlissOK, OK! I had to make a decision and based on the speedy and overwhelming responses I’ve had to my ‘dilemma’ I decided to go for it! The shooting zips of excitement that were whizzing up my arms as Ade held my hand made it difficult to think straight. And I’m still not entirely sure that I am - thinking straight. I felt like something out of a <a href="http://www.jamesbond.com/">James Bond </a>film as I watched the <a href="http://www.completecharter.co.uk/helicopters1.html">helicopter</a> start the propellers and Ade was gently tugging at my hand to go with him. Delaney’s smile was huge and Ross and Darren looked ecstatic at the live ’action’. Delaney showed a soft side and gave me a hug as she whispered in my ear, “this is so much more than we’d hoped for on the ‘<a href="http://www.sophiedilemma.com">dilemma</a>’ front! Sophie, it was intended as a simple ‘should she see him again or not’? As a ‘would YOU go out with this guy again‘ question. But good luck to you. Enjoy this!”<br />I felt sick with nerves and felt slightly pressurised by Delaney’s excitement, coupled with the camera presence. So feeling rather ridiculous but also very excited and nervous I ducked down and ran to the helicopter with Adrian.<br />I felt even more sick minutes later when the helicopter took off and we swooped away from the rink, leaving behind The Temperate House lit up in <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">m</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51); font-weight: bold;">u</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;">l</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">t</span><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;">i</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;">c</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;">o</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;">l</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">o</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;">u</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">r</span> and the heavy thudding sounds chopping in my head. Ade put his arm around my hips and pulled me close to his side. This was SO romantic that if I wasn’t hugging on to his arm so tightly I’d have had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. As we sped across the night sky I giggled at his lame jokes about enjoying his huge chopper - they were slightly crude and clumsy and made me feel a little unsure about him - just fleetingly. And then he kissed my cheek lightly and began to melt me with his words. <br />“You know, Sophie, we won’t ALWAYS travel like this. We‘ll have to pull in favours like this only on extra special occasions.”<br />And I looked into his warm eyes and we’d sniggered at the pretence of it all. And then he’d told me about a fabulous Chinese restaurant that he’d been to only last week and couldn’t WAIT to take me to. Looking down over the festive lights of London below I felt a glow that warmed my entire body from deep within me and buzzing gently outwards to my skin. I’ve never been so crazy about a guy who has made me feel as if we both want to build an exciting future together.<br />“It‘ll be a great Christmas this year,” he added. I didn‘t have the heart to mention that I’m going to be in L.A for the festivities - the timing just seemed wrong, so I let him continue, “You can come over to my place and spend some time just chilling. We can stay in bed all day and I can hold you. I have some fab new CD’s that you’re gonna love. And I just HAVE to take you to that Chinese restaurant!”<br />Then he’d hugged me and turned my face to his and kissed me until the electric shocks shot through my lips and straight into my head. The realisation that I haven’t felt as cosy and close as this for a long time suddenly hit me and almost made me cry. I‘ve missed this. And before I knew it he was stroking my hair from my face and kissing me again. It felt slightly clumsy though - his kissing. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the moment as I waited for his kisses to make my stomach flip. But they didn’t. And I wondered whether I was a little out of practice. It must have been that. Because I am completely mad about this guy. And I can really see us carving a future together. I found myself not quite knowing what to say - as if I was watching myself from the outside – how I look and act and what I was saying. And yet it was never like this with Rob. I have always been 100% ME with him. But then again, my ‘relationship’ with Rob was one that grew from friendship. And this, with Ade, is what is meant to be.<br /><br />Minutes later we were lowering down onto a helipad at the <a href="www.londonheliport.co.uk">London Heliport at Battersea</a> and I noticed the sleek black Mercedes waiting. Ade was the perfect gentleman, taking my hand and helping me hop out of the helicopter before leading me to the Merc, ready to be whisked off to <a href="http://www.thedorchester.com/">the Dorchester</a>. <br /><br /><br />*<br /><br />This is gorgeous! I’m totally blown away, although a bit nervous about all of this. It’s all so, well, over the top! We walk into this opulent room, both a little flustered after the highs (literally) of the journey and the adrenalin of the skating. It’s all been so heady and exhilarating and after the blustery exit from the helicopter and the chopping in-flight noise, the quietness of this room is buzzing in my ears. I don’t really know what to do with myself. The bed seems like a huge white elephant in the middle of the room and I don’t want it to be the focus! As much as I really fancy Ade I don’t want this just to be about sex. He has made me feel that he’s as keen as I am about working toward a loving relationship - he obviously can envisage a future with me, given what he was saying in the helicopter so it’s inevitable that we’re going to sleep together. But it has to be more than just that. Feeling a little awkward I go into the bathroom, the shine off the gold taps dazzling me - and I hear his voice as he speaks on the phone. I twirl my hair up into a high knot and twist my g-string around it tightly to hold it in place before nipping into the luxury power shower for a quick wash. It’s not so great having to put on my ice skating clothes afterwards, but there’s no way I’m going back in there naked! I return into the room to find that he’s had brandy and nibbles sent to the room.<br />“I was going to book us a room in the restaurant babe, but I’m a bit knackered. How do you feel about it?“<br />“No,“ I smile at him and flop down onto the sumptuous bed, “I’m way tired. This looks great. And I’m not hungry, anyway. Let’s just relax here, that’s fine with me.“<br />Ade flicks through the television stations, not even pausing at the porn (which slightly impressed me, I have to say!) and stopped it at the ‘100 Love Songs’ channel.<br />I feel the tension of the last few weeks begin to drain from my body, as if the plush bedding beneath me is sucking it away from me and soaking it up. I drink my brandy in 4 mouthfuls and begin to tingle. Within minutes I’m snuggled into Ade’s arms. It’s all just so right. His arms feel so natural and comfortable around me, his mouth feels as if it was made to fit mine and it’s as if we’ve known each other for years. His kissing is a little rushed, but that makes me feel kind of nice - as if he can’t wait to devour me. But he’ll have to. He doesn’t attempt to remove my clothing, nor touch any parts of my body other than my face and arms as he hugs me tightly, contentedly.<br />“This is lovely, isn’t it?“ He murmurs in my ear, his voice low and husky. “People weren’t made to be alone. This is really nice...“<br />And I grin and agree with a light “mmm,“ before slipping into a cosy and happy sleep.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-sixty-one-joining-kew.html">Chapter Sixty One</a><br />Chapter Sixty Three</span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-6692442360250071772007-07-26T21:29:00.000+00:002007-07-26T21:34:37.778+00:00Sophie Dilemma #1OK - firstly I must apologise for the wait.<br /><br />Ross and Darren took ages editing this video and now they have it ready for you all to see.<br /><br />The issue is - WHAT DO I DO NEXT?<br /><br />Do I go with Ade in his helicopter? Or should I refuse, on the grounds that he hurt me so badly before??<br /><br />Talk about a dilemma!<br /><br />I think Delaney had only agreed to this whole 'Sophie Dilemma' idea on the basis that you were all going to help me decide whether to see the guy again? Not whether I should be whisked away for a night of romance in a private helicopter!!!<br /><br />Anyway, I'm having a few problems loading it to <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.sophiedilemma.com">www.sophiedilemma.com</a>, so for now, and without further ado, please look at this short film, and then PLEASE help me decide what happens next??<br /><br /><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IPnJP9D5ajs"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IPnJP9D5ajs" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />Comments welcome - PLEASE!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);">Sophie..xxx<br /><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-sixty-one-joining-kew.html">Chapter Sixty One</a><br />Chapter Sixty Two<br /></span></span></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-11666925389430582842007-07-21T21:38:00.000+00:002007-07-21T21:43:44.816+00:00Chapter Sixty One - Joining The Kew!That was such good fun! My cheeks are glowing and my nose is freezing and I’m buzzing. Every time Ade catches my hand the tingle shoots straight up my arm and hits me somewhere between the eyes. There’s a physicality between us, a chemistry that feels so natural and as if we’ve been together forever. Still on camera, we’re making our way across to Café Ice, my feet feeling awkward in my boots now, after the ice skates. I’m so excited and it all feels SO Christmassy! <a href="http://www.savident.com/pressreleases/imagepages/imageskewgardensicerink.htm">The Temperate House looks positively glowing</a>, the glass building lit up with multicolour fairy lights and I realise that I‘m in the middle of a <a href="http://www.l-s-lowry.co.uk/goingtothematch-lslowry.html">Lowry painting - the crowds looking like matchstick people</a>, their arms and legs jutting as they stumble on the ice.<br /><br />Café Ice has a glorious festive smell to it, a mixture of spiced mulled wine and fruit and chocolate. We find a cosy table and Ade order us both a <a href="http://www.nationalblissday.co.uk/"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">luxury Galaxy hot chocolate</span></a> topped with cream. It’s really tough to drink through the cream and I know that I look flirty as I dip my finger into the cream and then suck it. Just sitting and talking to Ade makes me feel sexual and as if every nerve ending in my body is on red alert. His presence debilitates me to the point where I feel I’m losing my personality and I feel an overwhelming lust for him, which kind of freaks me out! This ISN’T how it was supposed to be! <br /><br />And then, just as I’m completely lost in my Galaxy hot choc and my naughty thoughts, he leans across the table and says something that blows me away.<br />“This ‘dilemma’ idea?”<br />I nod, wide-eyed as he continues,<br />“Well, the ‘dilemma’ is whether you should go out with me a second time, right?”<br />“Yep, reckon so,” I’m sucking more cream off my fingers as I answer him.<br />“Well,” his smile is stunning, “I’m just about to up my game then.”<br />I smile at him. “How?”<br />“I have something to ask you.”<br />And he leans across the table and takes my hand. My heart sprints into double speed as it bangs rapidly in my chest. I feel my cheeks flush as the camera moves in ultra close at our table side.<br />And then he says it...<br />“I’m ashamed at how I treated you earlier in the year. I was flimsy and now want the chance to show you how you SHOULD be treated by a man. A real man. Let me BE that man.”<br />And as my brain rushes to unscramble what he’s trying to say, he indicates across to the rink-side with a nod.<br />“Come with me,” he says, just as a <a href="http://www.premiair.co.uk/helicopter_charter_leisure.asp?NavID=3">small helicopter </a>lowers itself, polka dotted with the reflection of the red and green Christmas lights of Kew Gardens at night.<br />I try not to choke on my drink as the camera pans around to watch it land, and then comes straight back to my befuzzled facial expression....<br /><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-sixty-ice-ice-baby.html">Chapter Sixty</a><br />Chapter Sixty Twoalisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-67386250316437621572007-07-17T23:02:00.001+00:002007-07-21T21:44:16.162+00:00Chapter Sixty - Ice Ice BabyOK, so the day has come. I’m ridiculously nervous about this first date. Even though I KNOW the guy and I know where we’re going I am a wreck. I actually feel SICK. I’ve rushed to the toilet 5 times already! I’ve spent the morning at work and Delaney has given me the afternoon off to calm myself down. She said I was no good ‘to man or beast’ - which I think she meant as a light hearted joke, but I actually took very seriously! She’s right! I’m not! I’m sitting on my bed and looking at the dress I bought from <a href="http://www.monsoon.co.uk/icat/women">Monsoon </a>for Mum’s wedding and am slightly repulsed by the small <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">orangey </span>flecks in it. If I’d only known I was going to be in keeping with the ‘theme’ then I’d never have bought it. But I’ve also realised that everybody at the wedding will be brown and tanned and I’ll be there with my pasty white arms and milk bottle legs. I need to book an intense <a href="http://www.sttropeztan.com/">St Tropez session</a> and while I’m at it I might as well go the whole hog and have my hair cut and my legs and armpits waxed too. Yes, if I have to endure these next 2 weeks with 4 horrendous ‘live’ dates then I deserve a little pampering...<br />Now where are my matching gloves and scarf and woolly hat?<br />So NOT a good look for a date!<br /><br />*<br /><br />Ade felt slightly nervous about the impending ‘date’ but was quietly confident too. He’d decided to wear his jeans and his light blue <a href="http://www.bensherman.com/client/index.aspx">Ben Sherman </a>jumper - he knew it looked dead sexy, the way it stretched across his chest and shoulders. His Mum had joked that it looked like the coat hanger was still in it and he loved that notion. He looked good and knew it. He’d tried on a couple of beanie hats but had dragged them off almost immediately - there was something about them that made him feel like a Peter Andre wannabe. He knew from skating in the past that the exercise heats you up and he didn’t want to have the red-cheeked look after only half a hour. Patting his jeans pocket he checked that he had all the information that he needed and grabbed his car keys, slamming the front door behind him.<br /><br />*<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/Rp1LpgN7soI/AAAAAAAAAH8/A9UcWbINYsw/s1600-h/xmas-london-1-large.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 599px; height: 179px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/Rp1LpgN7soI/AAAAAAAAAH8/A9UcWbINYsw/s320/xmas-london-1-large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088306330393621122" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I always feel like somebody from a film when I’m in a black cab. There’s something cinematic about it, as I imagine myself being filmed, zipping through the London streets, the blue fibre optic Christmas lights shining down onto the black paintwork. I feel really sick. I’ve been listening to the saxophone version of ‘<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8hzN3Xrv47M">Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas</a>’ for the last 3 minutes and it’s making me feel a little poignant and sad. It’s like one of those romantic moments from a film as I’m on my way to a date with Ade - the guy that really messed me up earlier in the year. But strangely, now the empty pit in my stomach is for Rob. I’m finding it difficult to eat or to think straight simply because of the misdemeanour that he thinks I’m a cheating bitch. And I can’t even defend myself. It’s not fair.<br />“Kew Gardens, babe!”<br />The taxi driver breaks my downward spiral of self-doubt and hatred, jerking me into an aware state that we’re actually here.<br />“OK,” I reply, my voice shaky.<br />As I pull a tenner out of my purse I can’t help but be overwhelmed at how fabulous the rink looks. Lots of people, many of them in red - how predictable, rhythmically moving in an anti-clockwise direction. It looks like fun! If only I wasn’t also looking at Ross and Darren standing with the 2 cameras and the few crew members. Reality check that this is work and NOT play. As soon as I’m out of the taxi Ross is over,<br />“Hey, Sophie. You look great! Any word from Adrian? He hasn’t arrived yet.<br />“No,” I reply, but can’t figure why they think I’d hear from him.<br />“OK,” he gently holds my arms and leads me across to the camera, “we gotta get you mic’d up and talk through the workings. Wanna wait til Ade arrives?”<br />“No, let’s do it now. I can listen again when he gets here. I’m so nervous I probably won’t remember it anyway.”<br />“Right, we’re gonna just film a short amount of footage of you 2 guys skating around. You any good?”<br />I shake my head. He laughs.<br />“OK, so we’re gonna grab some scenes of you both skating, or trying to, and gonna ask you to come over here and talk a little in front of the cameras too. But the main part of the dilemma has to be when you’re having your hot chocolate drinks afterwards. What we want is for the audience to watch how you both interact together and whether they think you should see him again. So just be yourself. Viewers know when they’re being hoodwinked, so just be completely natural and let them see the REAL Sophie and how she acts when she’s on a date.”<br />“Right.” I feel weak. Bloody Delaney. This was all her idea!<br /><br />I’m watching the families and couples, work mates and children spinning on the ice beneath the stars and beside the glow of a huge <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">Christmas tree </span>and I hate to admit that it does warm my heart. That heart of mine that sits in shards in my chest every time I think of Rob and how I’ve messed it all up. I wish I was here with him. The atmosphere is exciting and edgy and I’m loving watching my breath escape from my mouth in icy clouds. I’m slightly impressed when Ade pulls up in a rather slick black car - I don’t have a clue what make it is, but it’s swish-looking. He looks gorgeous when he gets out of the car and in that split second all of the lusty feelings I once had for him rush in. It’s as if all of the bad stuff between us hasn’t happened, and as if all the good bits between Rob and I hadn’t too.<br /><br />*<br /><br />He’s bloody fantastic at skating - the bastard! I bet he was delighted when Delaney agreed to the open air rink being the first of my 4 dates. He certainly knew what he was doing. The very nature of ice skating means that conversation doesn’t flow particularly easy, which is actually more of a bonus than a pain. I throw my head back and laugh when Ade gets me a zimmer frame type of thing to lean on so that I can learn and ‘find my feet’. There’s no way I’m pushing that contraption around the ice. It’s only minutes later than I’ve completely forgotten about the cameras and when he grabs my hand and drags me alongside him at top speed, I feel my hair flying behind me and I’m aware that I’m screaming! I bet the film crew are loving this! He grabs my hips and spins me a little, not too fast, and I’m mortified to realise that I probably look at lot like <a href="http://www.disney.co.uk/DisneyVideos/bambi/home.html"><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;">Bambi </span></a>- only less attractive and with chunkier legs. But it’s all great fun and I’m alarmingly aware that my skin tingles everytime he touches me. It’s a scary realisation, but a very true one.<br />I’ve still got the hots for Ade.<br />Big time.<br />He’s so wrong for me, a liar and a cheat and completely lacks integrity.<br />But I fancy the fucking pants off him....<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-nine-man-from-del-monte.html">Chapter Fifty Nine</a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-sixty-one-joining-kew.html">Chapter Sixty One</a></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-76414767827081022852007-07-12T21:28:00.000+00:002007-07-17T23:12:12.616+00:00Chapter Fifty Nine - The Man From Del Monte He Say "*&@!*!!"It’s ludicrous - the way my Mother and sister go on. Honestly, you’d think they were a couple of teenagers - what with their shrieking and giggling about the stupidest things. I’ve been listening to Jennifer for the last 35 minutes from my bedroom. I’ve been trying to reorganise the room in a bid to create a calm space. It looked a whole lot better as soon as I moved the weeks discarded clothes from the floor and into the washing bin. As much as I’ve been determined NOT to ear-wig on their conversation, it’s impossible. Jen is raucous and from the one-sided chat that I’ve been listening to I already know about Mum’s ‘new best friend’ Bobbi Jo and how she’s now going overboard on the orange theme. It reminds me of a weekend I had in <a href="http://www.holland.com/amsterdam/gb/"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Amsterdam </span></a>where everything was <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;">orange</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">, </span>but that’s another story. Jennifer’s been laughing about the orange-iced wedding cake, the orange juice fountain and the orange fairy lights. It stands to reason really though, that if my mother wanted to go for a hideous orange theme, she wasn’t equipped to do it in a STYLISH way. And then I hear Jennifer stop laughing and make a feeble attempt at lowering her voice,<br />“Noo, she’s still the same. Yeah. No. Not at all. Yep, another 3 months to go I think. Ridiculous, I agree. I CAN’T sort her, Mam. Chalk and cheese, darling. Yes. Of course. Well I think I’ll probably head back home after your wedding. No. Nothing really to go back for. Yeah, I have loved it here. London’s fab. And the sunbed shop job HAS been fun. Oh, Mam, how mad! I’ve just realised I’m working for a place that TURNS people orange and you’re having an orange weddiiinnngg!!!“<br /><br />When I emerge from my bedroom an hour later Jen is still on the phone, although I can tell by her husky drawl that she’s not talking to our mother. She stiffens up a little when she realises I’m in the room, shuffling herself into an upright position on the sofa, and I’m SURE I see her move her hand from beneath her skirt! Yuk! How sick? She whispers a low,<br />“OK baby. Yeah baby. Bye bye Big Boy,“ into the phone before disconnecting it and trying to avoid eye contact with me. Probably that awful guy she met at the sunbed shop.<br />“So,” I ask with a forced air of nonchalance, “how was Mum?”<br />“Oh,” she flicked her hair and pretended to watch the muted television, “you know. Excited, hyperactive, a hundred miles an hour. The usual.”<br />“So it really IS going to be orange.”<br />“Yep,” she nodded, “it really is. And the hen party was orange and the caterers are cooking orange-themed or flavoured foods, the marquee furnishings are going to be orange. You name it, it’s orange.”<br />“Great,” I hiss, “our mother’s marrying the man from fucking <a href="http://www.visit4info.com/details.cfm?adid=24714&type=coolad&startrow=31">Del Monte!”</a><br />“Ha, yeah,” Jen laughs, “bloody shame he said ‘yes’!”<br />And we both curl up and laugh.<br />Together.<br />For the first time in years.<br /><br />*<br /><br />Ben Scott was on his fifth Jack Daniels and had a massive hard on. He was reclined on his sheepskin rug dressed in <a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);" href="http://www.laperla.com/">La Perla </a>lace knickers, suspenders with silk stockings and 3 inch high black patent stilettos. They looked ridiculous, cutting into the flesh on his thighs - his black leg hair thick and squashed beneath the stockings; his bony, knobbly ankles leading down to the size 9 shoes. A <span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;">glow from his laptop was the only light in the room which gave a soft-tone blue tinge</span> to his naked flesh. Looking out at his balcony doors he could see the night lights of London sparkling in the icy night air. His breath was short and fast and he could feel his pulse beating in his neck and chest. The feel of the tight knickers really turned him on but the sexy messages that were hitting his ‘inbox‘ were certainly upping the pace. He‘d hooked up with his new cohort months ago, when Sophie Regan had become London‘s new ‘favourite‘ and launched her stupid project. Little had he known then what a sexy bitch this new ‘buddy’ was and how her evil streak was her sexiest feature. As he waited for her to reply to his <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://im.live.com/messenger/im/home/?source=MSNTDLINK"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">MSN</span></a> instant message he continued checking his friends-friends-friends. He adored <a href="http://www.facebook.com/">Facebook </a>and since hearing how all the media types were on there and the potential for networking he hadn‘t hesitated in loading his entire portfolio of publicity photos and give it his best shot. At his age he couldn’t afford to miss the opportunity to comb through everyone else’s ‘friends’ and the networking opportunities were endless. It bothered him that Sophie might reveal his ‘secret’ and it if wasn’t for this new woman and her wickedly sexy ideas then he’d surely be finished on television. He’d seen it all too many times; the nations ’darling’ pulled through the shit, their career in tatters and beyond repair. Take his good friend Michael Barrymore - what an horrendous time he’d had and then there’d been Jade Goody for her rants on Big Brother. It had left them both in tatters and it was all so unfair and unjust. He couldn’t risk the same for him, which was why Sophie had to be silenced and if that meant framing her as a fraud, then that‘s what he‘d have to do.<br />His television contract had only been renewed for another year and he knew that he was in constant danger of being cast in the shadows by the new influx of presenters filtering up from the children’s TV channels and onto the mainstream, Saturday night shows. Then there were the ex-radio jocks moving into the daytime chat-show arena. He’d felt sick when he’d been told that <a href="http://www.charlottechurch.com/"><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255); font-weight: bold;">Charlotte Church</span></a> had been given her own chat show. He felt truly saddened that the old pro’s - the <a href="http://parkinson.itv.com/">Michael Parkinsons</a>, the Jay Leno’s, the Terry Wogan’s were being spurned for a gobby cow with NO experience. But ultimately he was terrified that Sophie had the potential to spill the beans on his fetish for women’s clothing. He’d felt ill when she had first found him wearing the cotton sundress as she’d walked into his flat without knocking. That had been nearly 2 years ago now but he remembered it like yesterday. She’d been shocked but they’d talked it through and she SEEMED to understand! It had taken her a couple of weeks to tell him that she respected his pleasures, but that she couldn’t continue to see him in a sexually attractive way. She’d even hugged him and said that they’d remain friends! And he had believed her! The sex between them had always been explosive and she was an extremely uninhibited filly in the bedroom. He’d always thought it such a shame that she constantly nagged him about his communicative skills and that she found his penchant for Agent Provocateur a turn off. The fact remained though, that she was the ONLY person in the media world that knew about his secret and since her catapult into public eye with the Staying Single story he wasn’t so sure that he could trust her. He clicked to open the MSN menu to check whether his sexiest closest confidante was online.<br />Angela Johnson was.<br />Excellent.<br />If it wasn’t for her, he’d have NO idea that Sophie was planning to humiliate him on national television . It was just as well he had something on her to sling back. And, thanks to AJ, he was now going to be her 4th, and final, <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.sophiedilemma.com/">Sophie Dilemma</a> date – which was to be filmed live. This would give him the perfect opportunity to embarrass Sophie live and online. That should lay to rest any wicked ideas she might have about mentioning the odd suspender belt or lycra mini skirt that he had tucked away in his secret drawer at home….<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-eight-agendas-suspenders.html">Chapter Fifty Eight</a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-sixty-ice-ice-baby.html">Chapter Sixty</a></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-34741910839046680642007-07-11T23:08:00.001+00:002007-07-12T21:45:19.718+00:00Chapter Fifty Eight - Agendas & SuspendersRob was feeling shit and angry. He hated to admit it, but he’d been naive in thinking that Sophie was genuine. If she’d been THAT genuine then why was she trying to stay single? She looked great and had a sparkling personality and had really wormed her way under his skin over the last few months. He wasn’t short of female admirers - he was a fit, good looking guy and saw lots of women that he liked the look of, a few that he’d meet in the pub that he’d chat with and would instigate an interest, but not enough to get involved with. The truth was, Rob hadn’t had a relationship for a couple of years. He’d been so busy building up his business and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to commit 100% because of that. He’d had his share of unfulfilling one-night stands and had always liked Sophie. In a way he could now see why she’d opted out of the dating game – he’d forgotten how painful it all was, how insecure it made him feel and how you could rush from high to severely low in a matter of seconds. It bothered him intensely that he’d begun to lose himself in Sophie’s kiss beneath that umbrella and how he’d been on the verge of telling her that he’d made the grand gesture of booking the log cabin. He’d worried that it might freak her out - that she’d think it was too much too quickly, but then he’d figured that they’d been good friends for a while now and that they’d manage it.<br />And then he sees her kissing Adrian Ford.<br />Getting angry once again he pondered over all the grey areas that he couldn't define - like how long she’d been seeing him?<br />Had it been since they’d first met?<br />And what about Tam and their friendship?<br />There was so much he wanted to say to her - to ask her and to tell too, but his stubbornness insisted on standing in his way with it’s arms folded.<br /><a style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.gunung.com/arod/xmas/xmas9.html">Bah humbug</a> - so much for the warmth of Christmas.<br />He dreaded the thoughts of yet another Christmas Eve out with the lads and getting drunk again.<br />He was SO ready for ‘something more’, if only she had been honest, and ready, for him....<br /><br />*<br /><br />Rob and Ade were at extremes. Whilst Rob felt alone and desperate, Ade was excited and on a high as he prepared for his ‘date’ with Sophie. It had been his idea to go to the <a style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" href="https://www.pwrtickets.com/kgir2006/tickets.aspx">outdoor ice rink at Kew Gardens</a> - it was the perfect Christmas venue and it was impossible not to have some laughs. Without being witty, it was the ideal scenario for breaking the ice as it involved lots of touching and laughing as he imagined them wobbling about under the twinkling <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">f</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">a</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;">i</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;">r</span><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;">y</span> </span>lights. He used to be good at ice skating and had spent hours at the rink at <a href="http://www.streathamicearena.co.uk/">Streatham </a>in his teenage years, even being asked to join the under 16’s ice hockey team. He was confident that he had every capability of having lots of fun with Sophie and make her realise that they SHOULD be together. He’d been wishing that the rain would stay away as he wanted just one last chance to make her see how much he liked her. Determined to be fun and extremely hands-on, without being creepy, he’d prepared it all right down to the last detail. OK, those ’extras’ had cost him a small fortune, but he was certain that it would be worth it. He wanted this chance to put right all the wrongs – the Trev Malone wind up, the Geezer involvement in Sophie’s Staying Single quest, the many ways that he’d seemed flippant about the way he’d treated her. The first Sophie Dilemma date was his chance, possibly his last chance, to make a public display of how serious he was about a relationship with Sophie and he intended to pull out all of the stops.<br /><br />*<br /><br />Tam was pulling out all of the stops as she got stuck into the back of her wardrobe. She began to fear that if she delved any deeper she’d come across a giant lion and a half-man/half-goaty type thing, but it didn’t stop her. She was beginning to sort out some clothes for her long weekend in the log cabin and was chucking clothes onto her bed at a ferocious rate. Her frenzied excitement was escalating alarmingly, despite the slight niggle at not really knowing what clothes to pack. Would it be cold in Scotland? Would the log cabin be cold/double glazed/centrally heated? Looking back at the jumble of fabrics and colours made her realise how dowdy and scruffy she’d been lately. A pang of disgust punched her in the stomach as the true horror hit her. She’d let herself go, big time. No wonder Adrian had called it off with her. He’d have been a fool to stick around.<br />In the same way that Pete would have.<br />Been a fool.<br />She was stunned at the hoards of colourful and gorgeous clothes that she had here - clothes that she used to delight in wearing before she’d stolen Pete from his wife. Suddenly it all fell into place. She’d been flattered by Pete’s attention - it was strangely intensified by the knowledge that he was married - somehow made it MORE flattering that he liked her, despite having a wife at home. She couldn’t figure it out now, but it had struck a chord with her at the time. And so she’d gone from the wearing sexy, sassy clothes that had attracted him to her in the first place, to slipping into domestic doldrums of tracksuits and t-shirts.<br />There was time for this procrastination and that’s what she supposed Rob had been thinking, when he handed her the booking info for the Burnbank lodge. She needed to remember WHO she used to be. Sophie was a fantastic friend and knew her so well. She’d got it right when she’d said that to be happy with somebody you have to be happy with yourself first. Tamsin could see how she’d spent years going from man to man as if they were all the same person. Scooping up the mountain of clothes she dropped them clumsily into the tub chair in her bedroom. She was going to keep everything as simple as possible from now on. Pulling her favourite jeans from her wardrobe door she packed some of the chunky knitted jackets and her Timberland boots into her small holdall. She needed to spend some quality time with HERSELF and hoped that she’d have plenty of chances to enjoy walking through the Scottish forestry and beside the lake and remember WHO she was, and what she wanted to be. Rob had truly pulled an ace out of the hat with this one. It was the best Christmas present that she’d ever received.<br />Although she was more than a little curious as to why Rob had initially booked it for two people.<br />Perhaps he’d hoped to go with her and now couldn’t.<br />But she suspected that there was more to it than that.<br />But Rob? Have a girlfriend? He surely would have said something to her.<br />Then again, Tam realised, she’d been pretty much myopic lately when it came to her friends and family. And so 3 weeks before New Years Day Tamsin made her first new years resolution.<br />It was time to fall in love again.<br />But this time with herself.<br /><br />*<br /><br />In Los Angeles Sophie’s Mum was also preparing. Thrilled to be getting married in <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Orange County</span> she’d just spent 10 minutes on the phone instructing the wedding planner to scrap the tasteful white and gold balloons and replace them with orange ones! Bobbie Jo had made her think of the ‘orange’ theme at her bachelorette party last week and she’d already asked for orange icing on the wedding cake and <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">orange lights</span> around the marquee. Snatching the phone up from the garden table she punched in Sophie’s number, secretly hoping that Jennifer would answer.<br />Sophie was a darling, but she was SO dry. Jennifer really was a girl after her own heart - knew how to party and how to really let her hair down.<br /><br />*<br /><br />Ben Scott loved <a href="http://www.facebook.com/">Facebook</a>. It was everything that <a href="http://www.myspace.com/">MySpace </a>was and more. The networking opportunites! The combing through media contacts ‘friends’ lists!<br />He was in heaven.<br />Apart from the stretched elastic strip that was beginning to cut into his bum cheek.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-seven-seasons-bleetings.html">Chapter Fifty Seven</a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-nine-man-from-del-monte.html">Chapter Fifty Nine</a></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-36220084240746246502007-07-11T00:09:00.000+00:002007-07-11T23:22:35.467+00:00Chapter Fifty Seven - Seasons Bleetings!<span style="font-size:130%;"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:Harrington;color:red;" ><br />Relationship Rehab – Mingle as a Single at XMAS....</span></b> </span><br /><br />Let me get one thing straight.<br />The stigma of being a singleton at Christmas is potentially bigger than being an ex-Big Brother contestant and trying to launch your own lingerie/perfume/autobiography. The ‘It’ll Be Lonely This Christmas’ ethos is potentially damaging to the ego and can be like watching a party that you’re not invited to, through a smoky window. It’s a bizarre race to be ‘ready’ for Christmas and if YOU isn’t TWO then it’s set to be a little lonely. Now don’t mistake me for a cynic - I’m not! I can get into the swing of it all along with the rest of the population - strangling their credit cards and depleting the notion of financial freedom for the next 10 months, all in the name of ‘goodwill‘. Forget the 80% of the world that are starving, if we don’t have a gold platter of mixed nuts that would make the fattest squirrel jealous, then we’re just NOT in the game! Everywhere you look there are schmaltzy tunes, pissed, puking office party-goers or chocolate box families.<br />But the bright side as a singleton? The absence of in-laws, no money arguments, the freedom to go Christmas shopping when YOU want and the budget to treat <span style="font-weight: bold;">yourself </span>to a pressie. If I’ve learned one thing over these last 9 months it’s that being SINGLE doesn’t mean being ALONE. And I won’t be. Despite turning a seasonal shade of <span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;">green </span>when my friend told me that she’d been treated to a long weekend in a romantic log cabin in Scotland, it got me thinking how I’d really LOVE to do that. Especially at Christmas. But we never get that snowy scene do we? More like grey skies and deep puddles. So this year I’m decamping to Los Angeles for a truly American-style Christmas. My mother is getting married on Christmas Eve and I’ve heard that LA in December is in the seventies - so roll on sunny skies!<br /><br />So this will be the last Relationship Rehab until the new year, but before all that frivolity I have <a href="http://www.sophiedilemma.com/">4 dates, 4 guys and 4 dilemmas to face</a>. With mere days until Date 1, I‘m a little nervous. I know it‘s at <a href="http://http//www.londontown.com/London/Christmas_Ice_Skating_in_London">Kew Gardens Ice Skating Rink</a>, followed by hot chocolate. I don‘t know yet what the other 3 dates will be - but I do know that I‘m going to need your help in deciding what to do! So watch this space - all will be revealed in the next couple of days. And in the meantime keep an eye at <a href="http://www.sophiedilemma.com/">www.sophiedilemma.com</a> - it'll all change when you're least expecting it<br /><br />So for now, I‘ll sign off and let you help me with my dilemmas - and while I can‘t guarantee that you‘ll have snow at Christmas or that I‘ll have scorching sunshine, I CAN guarantee one thing...<br />I certainly won‘t be breaking a leg to catch that bridal bouquet!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);">Sophie.xx</span><br /><a href="http://http//sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-six-ice-breaker.html"><br /><br /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://http//sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-six-ice-breaker.html"></a><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-six-ice-breaker.html">Chapter Fifty Six</a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-eight-agendas-suspenders.html">Chapter Fifty Eight</a><br /></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-71975157835700620572007-07-09T22:52:00.001+00:002007-07-11T00:16:40.895+00:00Chapter Fifty Six - The Ice Breaker?I’ve just trudged home in the rain after a long, thin day. I feel like an overstretched elastic band, tight and ready to snap as I sidestepped the deluge of warped office parties - the women giggling in their ‘party’ office gear - which comprises usual office clothing but in velvet rather than cotton, accessorised with flashing xmas bauble earrings and felt antlers. They look ridiculous - but at least they’re laughing. Which is more than I’m doing. I feel so low that any sound of frivolity is bristling off of me like shards of glass. So imagine how hacked off I am to walk in through my front door and HEAR Jennifer before I see her. She’s on the phone, squeaking and squealing in hysterics.<br />“Oh Mam, I just CAN’T feckin’ wait. I’ve bought the most drop-dead-gorgeous dress too.”<br />I kick off my wet shoes and leave them upturned and discarded on the mat as I listen to the pause. It doesn’t last long,<br />“Noooo! I’ve no intention of upstaging the bride! Mam, as if I’d do that to you! Honestly!”<br />I close my eyes and blow my breath out as I stand there in the dark. She doesn’t know I’m home and I really wish I could ring Rob and ask if I can go over there. Only I can’t. Because he hates me. If Mum could SEE the slashed-to-the-navel and ripped-to-the-thigh red dress that Jennifer cajoled out of her rogue boyfriend, then she’d shirk at the notion of being upstaged. The fact is that Jennifer is hoping to have ALL the attention. End of.<br />“Oh Mam, wait till Sophie hears! You’re joking! They got married in Pasadena? Oh My God! And what about your plans for saying your vows on the beach in Malibu? Out the window still?”<br />I push open the door and want to giggle at the flat slapping sounds that my damp feet make on the wooden floor. I sense Jen frowning at me. It makes me smile a little as I go into the kitchen and pull open the fridge door. You know, she’s home here all afternoon and it’d be nice, just once, to walk in and find that she’d sorted some food. As I root around in the fridge the acrid smell of lemon pinches at my nostrils and it makes me think of when I first met Ade and he bought me the lemon muffin from Starbucks. He’d really intrigued me and I’d fallen for him in a far bigger way than I even admitted to myself. Which made the fall twice as far and doubly painful too. It’s funny, because I saw him at lunchtime, chatting to Ellie on reception and it was as if I truly saw him for the first time without the rose-coloured glasses. He just looked like a good looking city boy who flirts with everyone. It felt good, being able to smile and say ‘hi’ to both of them as I walked past and I was secretly pleased that there were no pangs of lust or loss. It made the day easier, knowing that he’s going to be my first Sophie Dilemma. It won’t be so painful now, knowing that I have no feelings for him. Looking at is positively it might make the first one easier too - that he’s not a complete stranger and there’s no worry that I’m not going to know what to say to him. Delaney told me today that there’s going to be 4 guys on 4 dates and there’ll be the last 2 weeks of work before we split for Christmas. She’s told me that the first date is confirmed to be with Ade, a humorous seasonal coupling in collaboration with Geezer magazine, and it’s going to be a night ice-skating on one of the open air Christmas rinks, followed by hot chocolate and muffins in the 24-hour cafe in the park. Sounds like it could be fun. IF it was with somebody other than Ade. Somebody like Rob, for example. Then there’ll be another date later that week, with another 2 in the following week - the last one is going to be the day before Jen and I fly out to L.A. Which makes me sad. Especially when I think about how I’d jumped the gun and dreamed about Rob coming out there with me. Maybe it’ll do me good to get away for a while. I can recharge my emotional batteries and bolster myself to get through the next 12 weeks wearing the crown of Staying Single.<br />Jen is still on the phone and I can’t bear being dragged into the conversation so I open a tub of cottage cheese and pineapple and fork out huge mounds, as I hold a pen in my other hand and begin to write my Christmas edition of Relationship Rehab.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-five-yule-log-cabin.html">Chapter Fifty Five</a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-seven-seasons-bleetings.html">Chapter Fifty Seven</a><br /></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-87351274431098628552007-07-08T00:04:00.000+00:002007-07-09T22:54:11.825+00:00Chapter Fifty Five - The Yule Log (cabin)<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The paperwork sat on Tamsin’s floor, neatly piled on her rag rug. She kept picking up the printed pages and reading them through, but not really taking in what they said. The log cabin looked adorable. Hugely romantic. </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RpAqctI53lI/AAAAAAAAAHk/RO0vI3hHOnU/s1600-h/burnbank_lodges_head4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 157px; height: 132px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RpAqctI53lI/AAAAAAAAAHk/RO0vI3hHOnU/s200/burnbank_lodges_head4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084610651942936146" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">They were for couples, which freaked her out a little, considering she’d be going alone. It was puzzling her though. Rob had been great about the break up with Ade</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> and had been totally supportive to her. He hadn’t hesitated to give her the info for the Scottish lodge and hadn’t asked any questions about what had happened between Ade and her. Which was good - because she didn’t actually know herself! Ade had been really nice about the way he’d told her that it was over. He’d explained that he wasn’t ready for a relationship and that it had all got a little too cosy too quickly - but she still wasn’t entirely sure why he’d wanted to call it a day. Rob had made sense about it all and, once again, he’d been right when he’d pointed out how Tamsin had slipped straight from the messy relationship with Pete into a new one with Ade. And he </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">was right too, when he’d said that she needed some time alone, some time to get to know herself, before she committed to anything else. As she sat cross-legged on her sofa, sipping a glass of red wine, she stared at the paperwork on the floor. Why had Rob booked the log cabin? And why had he booked it for the week BEFORE Christmas? And WHO had he booked it for? Himself plus one? Or for another couple? It didn’t make sense. She was going to go next weekend anyway. She’d been a little concerned about driving the 9 hours to Scotland, but Rob had already sorted her a cheap flight, so she had no excuse. She was looking forward to having some complete time out from her life. Time to chill and enjoy the peaceful surroundings. Rob had been right - she wanted to start the New Year with a revived and refreshed outlook. It was pointless being a serial dater - the next year was going to be all about Tam. Maybe Sophie had it right - choosing to remain single was going to be Tamsin’s aim from now on - no more unsuitable or unreliable men. It was all going to be about Tam</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> from here on in.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />*</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This is the fourteenth time I’ve called Rob today and he’s not answering my calls. I swing from feeling desperate for the chance to explain myself, to being really fucking angry at him for being so gullible and jumping to conclusions about me! How DARE he think that I’m that flaky that I’d arrange to meet Ade behind Tamsin’s back! Or that I’d be less than honest with him, OR HER, about it too! In a way I can’t help but figure that if he thinks I’m that kind of </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">spineless person, then what’s he interested in me for anyway? Doesn’t that say more about HIM than it does about ME? And then I lose the firecracker in me and feel terrible. All of those shit men, those terrible dates, those losers that dumped me WAY before I’d started my quest to stay single? They were nothing compared to how I feel now. This is different. Because I really like Rob. I mean, really, REALLY like him which makes it so much worse. And also because he’s angry with me for something that is a huge mistake! If only he’d give me the chance to explain! He’s obviously really angry at me - which is kind of good, because that means he really likes me, doesn’t it? Then it isn’t good too. Because if he likes me that much (like I do him) then wouldn’t it make sense for him to listen to what I have to say?</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">MEN!</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Grrr - they’re SO damned stubborn!!</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The first guy I’ve kissed in years that I truly like on so many levels. His kiss made me melt right down to the middle of my body. That hasn’t happened for a long, long time.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And now he won’t talk to me...</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So much for asking him to come to Mum’s</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> wedding with me! What a joke THAT idea was! Didn’t even last 24 hours.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And I have a week until my first ‘official’ Sophie Dilemma. And here I am, with a real one!<br /></span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">*</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">“Regan!” Delaney is calling for me first thing on Monday morning. It’s been a shit weekend and Rob is still refusing my calls. It’s outrageous and now I’m really annoyed at him. He’s </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">acting like a stubborn school boy by not listening to my side of the story. I spoke to Tamsin about it and asked her if she’d seen Rob. She was FULL of news! Apparently Ade went around to see her over the weekend and broke it off with her. For no real reason. I knew he was planning to do that - he’d told me when we’d had our drink together. And I’d been right too - her laziness and overly-cosiness was freaking him out. So she’s been feeling awful too - poor love. After the break up with Pete too, it’s all too much in a short time span. But then she told me how Rob gave her a booking for a long weekend at a beautiful log cabin in Scotland. It sounds completely gorgeous - a cabin for two in a remote woodland in Scotland somewhere. She’s really puzzled about it all though. She said that the date on the booking was last week and that Rob wouldn’t say where he’d got it from or who he’d booked it for. Which leads me to think one of two things - he’d either booked it FOR Tam as a present for her and Ade, or he’d booked it for himself and somebody else.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Could that somebody have been me?</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Or is he seeing somebody else too?</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Has he been seeing somebody else for the whole time we’ve been friends, but I’ve been so caught up with my own sorry state of affairs that I’ve never given</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> him the chance to talk to me about it.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Or was it for him and Jen all along?</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It just doesn’t bear thinking about...</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">“REGAN!” Delaney’s loud voice breaks my trance </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">and I grab my papers and rush to her office.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">“OK,” I huff and puff, “here.”</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">“Good weekend?” she barks. </span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">“No, but let’s not talk about it.”</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">“Oh,” she looks at me a little concerned but says nothing.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Thank god. Because I really don’t want to talk about it. I keep thinking about how tormented I‘d been when Danny-the-chav had said how the word monogamous was so like monotonous and I’ve realised how wrong he was. It all depends on who you’re with and if it’s monotonous then you’re either doing it wrong or you’re doing it with the wrong person. Perhaps Jennifer WAS right when she’d said that publicising my ‘inadequacy’ wouldn’t help me to find a decent man. Of course she’d been right, because ultimately when I had the chance with Rob - I blew it.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I’m useless.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And now I have to put a smile on my face when Delaney shows me the cover for the Woman To Woman Christmas edition.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RpAr-tI53mI/AAAAAAAAAHs/nAkiY7L_kqk/s1600-h/woman+to+woman+xmas+%231.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 345px; height: 445px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RpAr-tI53mI/AAAAAAAAAHs/nAkiY7L_kqk/s320/woman+to+woman+xmas+%231.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084612335570116194" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And then she shows me the one for the Geezer edition too.<br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RpAsQtI53nI/AAAAAAAAAH0/l22RCDv6dC4/s1600-h/geezer+xmas+%232.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 354px; height: 456px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RpAsQtI53nI/AAAAAAAAAH0/l22RCDv6dC4/s320/geezer+xmas+%232.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084612644807761522" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And I see the bit about Ade Gets Sleigh'd and it reminds me what he's really like. It's worrying me that Ade is my first Sophie Dilemma...</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I’d eat Delaney’s toenail cuttings out of a dog’s bowl rather than do these 4 dates for Sophie Dilemma.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Delaney interrupts,</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">“OK Sophie, we’re loading the SophieDilemma site this week. Going to show you a preview later today.”</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />Yip!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">How to pretend I’m excited?</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span> <span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><br /><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-four-ill-have-blue.html">Chapter Fifty Four</a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-six-ice-breaker.html">Chapter Fifty Six</a></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-16790228974128957832007-07-05T23:00:00.000+00:002007-07-05T23:01:46.229+00:00Pulling Power #21One guy's story.<br /><br />Why can't this happen to me?<br /><br />I'm so busy thinking how 'it' always happens when you're not expecting it --- that I'm ALWAYS half expecting it!!<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jRJmCvDCA08"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jRJmCvDCA08" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"></embed> </object><br /><br />Keep 'em coming!<br /><br />Pulling Power loves your 'lines'!<br /><br />xxalisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-30133498071026866962007-07-04T22:21:00.000+00:002007-07-08T00:18:10.807+00:00Chapter Fifty Four - I'll Have A Blue Christmas Without YouRob had the radio turned up full blast, but wasn’t really listening to the deluge of Christmas tunes that were ricocheting around the walls of his garage. His hands were <span style="font-weight: bold;">black </span>with grease and he stood beneath a car with the spotlight, focussing on the underside, spanner in his hand. He wasn’t concentrating. He couldn’t. He was annoyed at himself for trusting Sophie so quickly. He’d gone from worrying that he was dragging his feet with her - which had led him to book the <a href="http://www.burnbank.co.uk/">log cabin in Inverness-shire</a> as a romantic surprise for the two of them. And now, he felt that he’d rushed in too quickly. If only he’d waited a few more months until the year was up, then he could have stood back and watched how things panned out for her, and what decisions she’d make. But as things stood he’d forked out over £300 for a long weekend for 2, somewhere that was a nine hour drive away! And then there was how to tell Tamsin too! Or SHOULD he tell her? How could he break the news that her best friend was seeing her boyfriend behind her back? Talk about a double betrayal! His mobile vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, knowing it was Tamsin again. She’d already rung him a few times this morning, but he didn’t have the words for her. She’d probably be all bright and breezy and he was going to find it hard to sound chipper. He frowned and looked down at her name, flashing in lights in his hand and decided to answer it. He pressed the button with the <span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);">green </span>phone on it,<br />“Hey, babe. How ya doing today?”<br />He was shocked to hear her crying.<br />“I’m not. Doing. Today. I HATE today.”<br />“Tam? What is it? You at work?”<br />“No! I didn’t go in. I couldn’t. Not after last night.”<br />His stomach churned as he climbed out from beneath the car, clambering up the steps leading from the pit.<br />“What?” his voice was measured and amazingly calm, “What happened last night?”<br />He heard his sister sniff as her voice cracked,<br />“Ade. He dumped me.”<br />“Jesus! He what? Did he say why?”<br />“No!” she shouted at him, “He didn’t say why at all! He just called around about an hour later than we’d planned, soaking wet smelling of beer and said that we needed to call it a day. I mean Rob, what kind of an excuse is that?”<br />Rob was furious. This news reinforced what he’d suspected - that Sophie and Ade were back together and were shuffling about, trying to keep it all a sordid secret. He’d been foolish enough to think that Sophie couldn’t be that callous, but he’d clearly been wrong. It severely jarred his ability to character-judge people now. He’d thought that he knew Sophie really well and look what happened! Talk about getting burned!<br />“Tam,” he tried to remain calm, for her sake, “listen, Ade was never right for you. He’s a playboy and you deserve better. I know you don’t wanna hear this right now, but he’s not worth it. Listen babe, I’ve got something for you. I’ll call over after work and see you. Did you get any sleep last night?”<br />“No,” she sniffed, “hardly any. It’s just too much, so soon after Pete.”<br />“I know. That’s why people try to avoid rebound dating. It’s all too painful too quick. Try and get some sleep this afternoon. I’ll be round after 6.”<br />“OK, thanks Rob. You’re the best.”<br />“No prob sis. Get some rest.”<br /><br />He sat down on his rickety ex-office chair and stared at his open diary. He’d written<br /> <span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" > tell Sophie about log cabin</span></span><br />in red pen and had circled it. The writing had an air of flamboyance and promise to it, with it’s rounded shapes and swirls. He’d been so excited at finding the romantic 2-berth log cabin in Scotland and he’d booked it immediately. He’d been even more excited at telling Sophie about how he’d planned to take her away for a few days. It all had seemed so much more precious, after their kiss last night. But how short-lived THAT high had been!<br />And then he knew what to do. He would give Tamsin the short break in <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9Vhdhxagpw">Scotland</a> and suggest that she spends a long weekend alone. It would do her good to go and relax and to think about what SHE wants out of life, rather than seamlessly dating the wrong men. There was the added bonus that she’d mention to Sophie how he’d given her the opportunity for the log cabin break and that might get her thinking too... He wasn’t going to reveal what he’d seen last night. It wasn’t fair on Tamsin - but he had every intention of telling Sophie how disgusted he was in her.<br /><br />*<br /><br />I check my calendar in Outlook as I begin to check my emails. Loads from Delaney and a few from Ross and Darren too. Yuk. Hmmm, 7th December today and only 17 days to go until the dreaded wedding.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RowgBNI53kI/AAAAAAAAAHc/tcvUTLVGH7M/s1600-h/christmas+calendar.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 153px; height: 115px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RowgBNI53kI/AAAAAAAAAHc/tcvUTLVGH7M/s320/christmas+calendar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083473284473413186" border="0" /></a>Yet, this morning everything seems lighter - as if a huge burden of doubt has been lifted. I know that it’s all down to the kiss with Rob. He’s gorgeous and I never dreamed that we’d be a couple. Well, OK, I had DREAMED about it, but didn’t actually think that we’d get it together. I’d been convinced that he was hanging around to get closer to Jennifer and I was blown away last night when he kissed me. It was electric and my skin was tingling all over simply through the lip contact. To be honest I felt absolutely nothing when Ade stepped out in front of me, and I was still buzzing about Rob an hour later - when I sat in the pub with Ade. I’d nursed a <a style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" href="http://www.wkd.co.uk/">WKD</a> and listened to his flimsy story about Trevor Malone and the ego of the men working at Geezer. He’d said many things about thinking I was great, and funny and smart; sassy and sexy and honest and gorgeous. Things that might have got me naked within seconds, only a few months ago. But now I have Rob, the Ade bubble has burst and he’s just a good-looking but shallow guy. Simple as that. I have no interest in him. I was secretly chuffed that I got it right about his feelings for Tamsin. He was bored of the cosy domestic routine and felt a little cheated that she only wanted to slob about in her joggers, her most energetic moves being when she swings her legs up onto his lap as they settle down for yet another episode of <a href="http://www.friendsontv.co.uk/">Friends </a>or <a href="http://www.nbc.com/Will_&_Grace_Finale/">Will & Grace. </a>He was going to call it off with her before Christmas, he said. And I think it’s tough, but only fair. At least if Tam’s single for Christmas it might force her out to join in the relentless office parties and Christmas socialising. I obviously won’t be around to join her, as I’ll be shuffling awkwardly in the 70degree heat as I watch my mother get married in Los Angeles. I’m dreading that too. I have to go and get a dress this weekend and it makes sense for me to splash out a little more too, in lieu of the Sophie Dilemma nights. I wish I felt excited about being filmed on these 4 dates, but I don’t. Now I have Rob I’m not interested in spending social time with any other men. So I should be glad really that there’s only 4 sessions. Darren and Ross have booked the slots on Tuesday 11th, Thursday 13th, Tuesday 18th and then Thursday 20th December. They’ve chosen 2 midweek dates based on the New York ethos of dating which dictates that you NEVER go on a new(ish) date on any of the weekend nights for fear that you give off a vibe that you don’t have any friends. So it’s midweek dating for me. And Delaney emailed me yesterday afternoon to say that Richard & Judy want me on one of their Christmas shows - probably the Thursday 20th one - which is the afternoon just prior to the last Sophie Dilemma piece. And then I’m jetting off to Los Angeles the following day. Myself and Jen are booked on a flight on Friday 21st, giving ourselves a couple of days to recover and prepare for Mum’s Christmas Eve wedding. I don’t know which is worse -the thoughts of Mum’s false and pseudo-Americanisms for a fortnight, or the false and relentless Christmas party scene in London - all those hoards of drunk men in suits make me feel nauseous.<br /><br />Just as I’m inwardly cringing at the beginnings of excitement at a different kind of Christmas this year, I begin to wonder whether it’s too late to ask Rob to come to Mum’s wedding with me. It would be the icing on the cake for me - I wouldn’t be stuck in Jennifer’s shadow for the duration and it would give me and Rob some fantastic time together too. My telephone rings and makes me jump. I grab it and say,<br />“Sophie Regan!”<br />“Sophie?” Ellie’s voice is always bright and warm, “call for you.”<br />“Do you know who it is?”<br />“Says his name is Rob.”<br />“Great!” My voice is overly exultant and I sense that Ellie is a little surprised at my lack of composure, but I don’t care. I’m a little stunned then to hear his deadpan, flat tones,<br />“Sophie. Rob. Forget last night. Forget everything. The friendship, the kiss, everything I said. Actually, you might as well forget about Tamsin too. You’re not the woman I thought you were. In fact, you’re lower than low. All what you said about Jennifer? She’s streets ahead of you. I can’t believe you, Soph. Just forget it all.”<br /><br />The line goes dead.<br />And so does my heartbeat.<br />My stomach is filled with rocks.<br />My eyes sting as they begin to fill, involuntarily, with tears.<br />My god.<br />He must have seen me walk away with Ade.<br />And he obviously thinks that I’m deceitful and wicked enough to have planned it all.....<br /><br />Another fuck up.<br />And a big one this time.<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-three-grinch-is-my-heart.html">Chapter Fifty Three</a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-five-yule-log-cabin.html">Chapter Fifty Five</a></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-5952825049985674192007-07-02T21:51:00.001+00:002007-07-04T22:40:14.848+00:00Chapter Fifty Three - The Grinch! Is My Heart 2 Sizes Too Small?<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">If my hair is falling out due to stress, then give me a week and I’ll be completely bald! Why can’t I ever see when I’ve got something good, something worth hanging on to? Why am I so damned greedy? I’ve been dumped by Rob after, ooohh, what, about 24 hours after we kissed in the rain? Now that’s gotta be a world record! I feel empty and shit... </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I’d just left him and was getting near to Tamsin’s house and was really lost on the high of that kiss. His touch unlocked all the feelings that I’ve been restraining so admirably and I virtually floated down the street. My stomach was flipping and it took every inch of reserve to stop me launching into <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bkEvy-9yVyQ">‘Singing In The Rain’ and Gene Kelly’ing</a> my way through the puddles. I’d decided that it was all so much easier now - I could tell Tam about how she’s being so boring with Ade. Now that I KNEW that I wasn’t interested in him, it all made sense. The final pieces of the jigsaw had jostled into place and the resulting picture was superb. I was bursting to tell her all about me and Rob and I was sure she’d be delighted. She’d better have been, I’d thought, especially after how ‘good’ I’d been about her asking Ade out. I’d planned on being an ace best-friend and telling her in a diplomatic and kind way about her scruffiness. And then when I’d helped her see how she was letting herself go we could open another bottle of wine and have a cosy girlie chat about Rob and then about Mum’s wedding. And then talk about me and Rob again. And again. We had loads to catch up on!</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Then somebody stepped out in front of me and stood under my brolly with me, completely shocking me out of my <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">rose-coloured-glasses</span> mode. It was Adrian!</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">It all went wonky after that...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">*</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I felt sick and shocked to see Ade standing in front of me. He smiled and I melted. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">See? </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Easy as that? </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Pathetic aren‘t I? </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Hey, you going to see Tamsin?” he grinned.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“No,” I pulled a wide-eyed sarcastic look, “I just LOVE walking the streets, aimlessly, in the rain. Oh, yes, look? I‘m in Tam‘s street! What a coincidence. Oh, I might as well then!”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Hey,” he touched my arm, “don‘t be like that. Sophie,” his voice softened, “I really need to talk to you.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Ade. There really is nothing to say. The flowers and messages and stuff that you sent as apologies were lovely, but you made me feel like shit. And you knew what you were doing - it was no accident. There‘s nothing to say.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“But there IS. Please. Look, just come for one drink with me and let me talk. Please! ONE drink only. At least give me that chance to explain face to face.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“I don‘t think so.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Please. Anyway,” a cheeky twinkle sparkled in his eyes as he said, “I AM going to be your first Sophie Dilemma date - so it‘d surely be best to get all of our personal, messy stuff out of the way before that, eh?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And I realised that the dilemma situation was looming and that he actually had a point. So I agreed.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“OK, I give in. Just one drink though.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">He crossed his chest with his fingers, “Scouts honour.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And with that we walked on, past Tamsin‘s house and to the end of the street and around the corner where the grotty pub was. I knew it was wrong, that I shouldn’t even consider giving him my time - especially when he is Tamsin’s boyfriend - but I walked on anyway. It was weird going straight past Tam’s, seeing her lights on and thinking that I would have been in there by now, taking off my wet coat and leaving my brolly in her hallway. It felt bad - as if we were betraying her, but I had to hear what Ade wanted to say. It was true that there was unfinished business between us and I wanted to lay it to rest. And I am so insanely nervous about the Sophie Dilemma campaign that any chance to talk it through is more than welcome...</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">If only I knew what the implications of that, rather boring, and quick drink were going to have.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">*</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Rob was gutted. He’d stood to watch Sophie walk toward Tamsin’s and while he waited he’d decided it was a perfect time to text her about the log cabin. He pulled out his mobile and wrote,</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" > I NEED 2 TLK TO U - SUMTHING I GOTTA TELL U. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" > HOPE U WON’T MIND. TELL U 2MORO. XX</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">He’d waited to see her approach the front door and ring the bell. Only she hadn’t. She walked on until she ‘accidentally on purpose’ bumped into Ade and they’d stood for a few minutes, having a cosy chat under her umbrella, before laughing and scurrying off together. Talk about a double whammy! Ade was cheating on Tam, Sophie was cheating on Tam AND telling him lies too! He was disappointed and hurt. He’d sat and endured bloody Jennifer, who loved nothing more than a good old whinge-up, for too many evenings in the hope of finding the right moment to ask Sophie to go to the log cabin with him. Now he felt foolish and pathetically romantic. He’d read the signs wrong again and it had cost him - both in his pocket and emotionally. Sophie obviously still had a ‘thing’ for Adrian, despite the crap way that he’d treated her. Maybe she was one of those women who liked men who weren’t very nice to them. But he hadn’t had her labelled as one of them. What a let down. And the log cabin? He might as well give it to somebody else for a nice mini break before Christmas...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">*</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">How can one person totally misread an entire whole scenario? After that quick drink with Ade I realised that he really wasn’t worth worrying about - simply a guy with lots going for him - except a sliver of integrity. So no loss there then. I’d gone on to spend a few hours with Tamsin and had managed to talk to her about where she thought her and Ade were heading. We had a few laughs and she even began to say how she missed our girlie nights out and was a little bored with the whole stay-at-home-with-the-boyfriend routine. So I’d pulled out my mobile to call a cab at about 11.30pm only to find a message from Rob. It said something about wanting to tell me something and hoping that I didn’t mind. And my worse fears hit me in the stomach. I’d felt sick as I’d been certain he was going to tell me that he really likes Jennifer. I suppose in a way I was expecting it, after all the time they’ve spent together. It seems like Ade was only getting close to me to get to Tam, so why so unbelievable that Rob might be getting close to me for access to Jen? I was certain that I’m always destined to lose the guy I like to somebody close to me. I’m virtually a fucking <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">donor</span>! </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And then I woke up this morning to a voice message from Rob. His voice sounded cold and edgy - nothing like the warmth that I expected from him and I feel ashamed at my indecision. I should never have gone for that drink with Ade - it wasn’t fair on Tam, or Rob, or ME! Once a loser always a loser, yeah? And he is a loser! If I began to stay single because of feeling crap after dating disastrous men, then being single when you’ve met someone that you REALLY like is even worse. I never got to hear what the ‘thing’ was that he had to tell me, because he was too busy spitting blood about how he’d stood and watched me walk off into the rain with Adrian. Damn! He’d seen us! And he thinks we’d planned it all. And so he wants nothing more to do with me. He called me some terrible names - a pompous cow being one of them - that really hurt. How could he really have liked me that much if he thought I was a pompous cow! And I SO am not that. I know that I’m not. To have had him so close and to have fucked it all up at the last minute is almost laughable. If only it was remotely funny.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Which it isn’t....</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">It’s always horrible being dumped. That surge of shitness that’s been kept at bay - held back by the invisible force field of the ‘highs’ of a new relationship, knocks you right over. Once the highs are shattered, once the magic has been broken the floodgates open and all that shit rushes right in. And it does knock you right over - even if the dumper was somebody that you had doubts about anyway! It makes you feel like crap, like you’re not a ‘proper’ or worthy person, like there’s something wrong with you. How many times have I asked myself whether I have ‘issues’ or whether I’m ‘good enough’? I’m so angry at myself too. The whole idea behind choosing to stay single was to avoid this emotional rollercoaster, so why the hell am I right back on it again? I’ve done far too many post mortems on dead relationships but I can’t figure this one with Rob. I was stupid, MORE than stupid to go for that drink with Ade. And I can’t talk to Tam about it because it means I have to reveal how I sneaked out with him behind her back. I can’t even ask Tam to have a chat with Rob on my behalf, for exactly the same reason! It’s a mess. And I have nobody to talk to! The whole deceit of that 45 minute chat in a seedy pub was supposed to break me free from Ade and all it has done is isolated me in a lonely loop all on my own. As I sit on the Tube train to work my eyes keep welling up as I want to talk to Rob. He’s my new best friend and now I know how I feel about him, it’s even worse. He’s helped me out so much over the last few months and now, when I really need to talk to him, I can’t. I’m ‘not allowed’ to. Because I’ve upset him and made him feel used and stupid.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">So much for Christmas cheer? I feel yuk. I had him so close and now he’s so far away from me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I’m like the bloody <a href="http://www.grinched.com/">Grinch - maybe my heart is 2 sizes too small too</a>???</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/06/chapter-fifty-two-ohno-moment.html"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Chapter Fifty Two</span></a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-four-ill-have-blue.html"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Chapter Fifty Four</span></a><br /></span></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-64158784302983761602007-07-01T20:26:00.000+00:002007-07-01T20:29:09.335+00:00Pulling Power #20plain and simple.<br /><br />One woman's story....<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AqF-EntEFdE"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AqF-EntEFdE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br /><br />Send in your story of how you met the love of your life....<br /><br />singlesophieregan@yahoo.co.ukalisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-49665789412460644472007-06-30T20:47:00.001+00:002007-07-02T21:58:14.353+00:00Chapter Fifty Two - The OhNo Moment!If Rob can make me tingle just by walking beside me beneath an umbrella on a cold, wet night - just imagine what he could do to me if we were alone.... between some cool sheets... in a candle-lit room... our skin touching. Brrr... Just the thoughts of it send a shiver down my back. Suddenly the night seems colder and I find myself unable to hold back any longer as I slide my arm through his and enjoy the closeness. I’m skipping inside when he doesn’t pull away or stiffen up. I SO want to kiss him! I have to instigate conversation or I’ll be stopping and cupping his face in my hands and planting a soft, slow kiss right on those gorgeous lips.<br />“I thought it’d be nice to see Tamsin.”<br />“Yeah. Nice.”<br />“She’s all over the place at the moment. I’ve felt really strange since she started going out with Adrian.”<br />“Why?”<br />“Well, em, ha, em, you know. The way that it all started off and me and him kind of doing stuff together and then how it all went wrong and I realised how he was just using me for the Geezer bet. I felt like shit.”<br />“Yeah, he’s a lousy fucker. You didn’t deserve all that shit. But, you know Soph, there are nice guys out there. And all this ‘promise’ about staying single for the year? I think that you really have put yourself in the frame for a lot of it.”<br />I have to stop walking and look him in the eye. I can’t believe he thinks that I asked for all those married guys and unsuitable, useless male chauvinist pigs to mess me about!<br />“HOW have I?”<br />Typical guy, he shrugs when under the spotlight, “I dunno. I just think that you agreed to go out with anybody who asked you. You weren’t sure what you were looking for in a guy and so just went out with whoever liked you. I mean, where was your choice then? All this about CHOOSING to stay single. How about CHOOSING to only date decent guys!”<br />“Rob. You think I was desperate?”<br />“Yeah,” he shrugs again and pulls my arm tighter into his own as we continue to walk, “I sort of do think that. Anyway, bet you’ve learned a few lessons about yourself, haven’t you?”<br />I hadn’t thought of that, but he’s right.<br />I have learned many lessons.<br />And I’ve met enough men, had enough disastrous dates, and received too many hundreds of emails from men who want ‘true love’ to be able to know what I want.<br />And it’s standing right beside me.<br />Which, to be honest, terrifies the life out of me!!!<br /><br />We continue to walk and I have to admit that I can’t really concentrate on what he’s telling me about his work. I feel all tingly and a little teary. The realisation that I have kept my emotions under lock and key for ages is a frightening one, especially when it’s suddenly crystal clear that I have serious feelings for Rob. Paul Ashkuri was fun, Adrian was an intense situation that I’m always going to remember - but I need to be mature enough to see that he ISN’T the type to commit to a relationship. Rob is everything I want, rolled into the one package. If only there wasn’t the huge question mark of Jennifer hanging over the situation. I’m desperate to know what he really thinks of her. It’s obvious that she’s making a play for him and I’d love to know what he thinks of her. She’s pretty great looking - with her fake tan and her fake teeth and her highlights and her great body. I mean what guy wouldn’t want to get her into bed? But how do I ever find out what he really thinks of her? If I ask then it looks as though I’m jealous of my own sister! It’s a strange situation and I just don’t know how to find out how he feels! I’ll have to think about it over the next few days and figure how I can throw her into the conversation really casually, without sounding as if I have an ulterior motive.<br />“Rob. Do you want sex with my sister?”<br />Fuck! Where did that come from? So much for being casual and calculated. I’m glad it’s dark. It means he can’t see me blushing furiously as he throws his head back and laughs.<br />“Your sister? You think I’m after Jennifer?”<br />OK. It’s embarrassing. He’s virtually hysterical.<br />I stop walking and look at him and realise that we’re near the end of Tamsin’s street.<br />“OK, Rob. I’ll go from here. Tam’s only around the corner.”<br />He continues to laugh. Irritating! Wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand he stops laughing and then looks at me again and begins to roar one more time! I cut in,<br />“Rob! I’ll catch up with you later in the week. I’m going to walk to Tam’s on my own from here. I’ll be fine. Your tube station is only down the road.”<br />He’s clutching the umbrella handle and I grab it, tugging it from his grasp. He holds onto it, refusing to let it go so I pull it hard and shake my head at him.<br />“Thanks Rob. Glad it was so funny.”<br />I feel humiliated and stupid as I turn and leave him standing in the rain, still giggling. The sounds of my boots, hollow on the silent street as they march through the puddles - the sounds of one pair of feet now more obvious, strangely. I hadn’t even noticed the sounds of us walking when we strolled together, but then again I was caught up in the whole tingly thing and probably just didn’t notice. I feel sick. And embarrassed and like I just blew it.<br />I DID sound jealous of Jennifer.<br />And now he probably thinks I have severely low self-esteem.<br />What a fool I am.<br /><br />I’m so busy wallowing in self pity and self deprecation that I gasp with shock as somebody grabs me from behind, causing me to drop my umbrella as they grab my face and pull me tightly to them. I can’t even really see who it is, kissing me deeply and gently, soft and firm as they push their lips onto mine and gently bite my bottom lip as they lick my lips and push their tongue slowly and probing into my mouth.<br />But I don’t need to see.<br />I know it’s Rob.<br />I’m melting.<br />And I’m getting soaked to the skin...<br /><br />*<br /><br />It feels like hours, and yet only seconds, later when he stops kissing me and pushes his hands into my hair, holding my head steady as he looks straight into my eyes,<br />“Sophie Regan. No disrespects, but I wouldn’t fancy Jennifer if she was the last woman on earth. You, on the other hand, are amazing. You intrigue me, you inspire me, you turn me on and make me laugh. I want you. I want YOU.”<br />I’m gob smacked.<br />Before I can reply, he kisses me lightly on the nose and then on the lips as he says,<br />“You go on to see Tam. I’ll talk to you later.”<br />It’s hard to break away from his huge hug, but I do.<br />I turn and can see Tamsin’s house from here. It’s right at the other end of the street, but it’s within view.<br />“OK,” my voice is light and shaky, “talk later.”<br /><br />*<br /><br />Ade was freezing. He’d pulled the collar of his jacket right up around his ears but still the rain was seeming to find a way to trickle down his neck and back. He’d marched, head down for what seemed like ages, toward Tamsin’s house reciting what he was going to say to her. He hated hurting anybody’s feelings but this had to be done! He’d pounded the streets trying to filter out what he was, and wasn’t, going to pick out as the most fair points. Or should that be ‘excuses’. He’d already decided NOT to mention her scruffiness and domesticated laziness. It was obvious that she was on the rebound and he was going to pull on that, rather than admit that he’d only agreed to go out with her in the first place in the hope that she was a direct route to Sophie. As he turned the corner for Tam’s street he looked up and saw a woman walking towards him. There was something about the way she was walking that reminded him of Sophie. But then again, it was difficult to get her out of his head these days. He thought every woman he saw was Sophie, or LIKE Sophie, somehow. It was hard to see, and he knew it was a long-shot, but it really did look like Sophie. Her face was masked somewhat by an umbrella, but then again it wasn’t a complete long shot. She could be coming to see Tamsin too.<br />He perked up as he squinted in the driving rain to try and focus.<br />And yes.<br />His luck was in.<br />It WAS Sophie!<br /><br />*<br /><br />Rob was relieved that he’d finally plucked up the courage to kiss Sophie. He’d waited and danced around it for months, trying to respect her ‘promise’ to remain single. He’d witnessed her despair and confusion at the hundreds of offers of love and devotion that she’d received, he’d been her shoulder to cry on and had SO wanted to kiss her on numerous occasions when he’d been holding her as she’d rubbed her forehead and wondered what to do next.<br />And now, he’d done it.<br />And it felt damned good.<br /><br />He’d stood and watched her walk towards Tamsin’s house, having no intention of walking away until he saw the light come from Tam’s open front door and Sophie disappearing through it. He’d noticed the man walking toward her, hunched in the rain, and thought nothing of it. And then he noticed the strange way that he was dipping his head as if he was trying to look at the woman who was masked beneath the umbrella. Something was a bit odd about him and then Rob felt sick as he watched the man block Sophie’s path and as if in slow motion, she raised her umbrella and stood talking to him. Rob side stepped off the kerb and stood behind a white van, hiding as he watched Sophie and this man, who he could only assume must be Adrian, as they talked for a while and then walked onwards, past Tamsin’s front door, until they both disappeared around the corner at the far end of Tamsin’s street.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/06/chapter-fifty-one-bloke-on-arm-is-worth.html">Chapter Fifty One</a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/07/chapter-fifty-three-grinch-is-my-heart.html">Chapter Fifty Three</a></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-69961209997138097662007-06-28T21:34:00.000+00:002007-06-30T20:49:32.089+00:00Chapter Fifty One - The Bloke On The Arm Is Worth 2 Behind The Bushes??<a href="http://www.enotes.com/shakespeare-quotes/damned-spot">Out damned spot, out I say</a>!! Now I know what Will Shakespeare meant when he wrote that. I’ve got it fixated into my head that Jen is on a heat-seeking mission, with the bull's-eye tightly focussed down the front of Rob’s jeans! And I’m shocked and disgusted at myself to find that it really bothers me! The chilli chicken stir fry was to-die-for but I can’t bear the thoughts of spending the evening here. As cosy as I am, I’m simply not comfortable watching my sister flirt with a guy that, it seems, I really like! Stretching my fingers between the slats of the blind in the kitchen window I look out at the darkness, the thick raindrops clinging to the outsides of the glass. As grim as it is out there, at least I’ll be able to breathe. Which is more than I can do here. Sitting on the end of my bed I pull my black leather boots onto my socked feet, tucking my jeans into them snugly. As I stand and look in the mirror whilst I grab my black raincoat I realise that it gives off an almost Parisienne look!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RoQqddI53hI/AAAAAAAAAHE/hbE4M-vpJVg/s1600-h/french+folag.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 82px; height: 51px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RoQqddI53hI/AAAAAAAAAHE/hbE4M-vpJVg/s200/french+folag.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081232965107310098" border="0" /></a>How chic! And what a cheat! Hmmm, yes - all I need now is my umbrella and I’ll look just perfect for pounding the wet London streets.<br /><br /><br />Jen is sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing her laptop, or rather her webcam, and has her back to Rob. Regardless, she continues to talk to him, to talk AT him, regaling him with her boring stories about who she’s been talking to on webcam. A smile creeps onto my face as I notice that Rob is dozing off and I take great delight in speaking really loud and making them both jump,<br />“OK! I’m off out for a while.”<br />Jen doesn’t bother to look up, but Rob’s eyes pop open and he looks at me, imploringly,<br />“Where you going?”<br />“Oh,” I shrug, a feeble attempt at nonchalant, “dunno really. Couple of friends I need to call on.”<br />I notice him look me up and down, hopefully taking in the whole Parisienne babe look that I’m certain that I’ve mastered. He rubs his eyes, and pulls himself to sit upright in the armchair,<br />“Oh, well. I think I might go with you. I mean, I’ll walk with you. I should be cracking on home anyway.”<br />“OK, whatever you like.”<br />He gets to his feet, smoothing his t-shirt down over his torso with the flat of his hands and I can’t help but stare. Jen spins around to stare at us,<br />“You’re both going?”<br />“Looks like it!” I breeze, turning toward my front door and opening it. I hear Rob squeak, almost apologetically,<br />“Yeah, gotta go.”<br />She shouts at us as we close the front door behind us,<br />“Yeah! Don’t worry about me! Stuck here on my own! Thank god I’ve got my SECRET STASH UNDER THE BED! Some friends YOU are!”<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RoQrhdI53jI/AAAAAAAAAHU/RmSaiMUxwX0/s1600-h/rainy+london+puddle.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RoQrhdI53jI/AAAAAAAAAHU/RmSaiMUxwX0/s320/rainy+london+puddle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081234133338414642" border="0" /></a><br />My arm is twitching with desperation and desire to link into Rob’s as we<br />huddle beneath my brolly together and splash through the orange, oily puddles.<br /><br />So I clutch the cold metal handle of the umbrella tightly with both hands, just to keep them under control.<br /><br />*<br /><br />Ade felt bad. But he’d made his decision and he had to break the news sooner rather than later. It wasn’t fair to keep it dragging on and with Christmas looming he knew that he had to bite the bullet now or wait for another 3 or 4 weeks! He’d been thrown a lifeline with the prospects of being the first <a href="http://www.sophiedilemma.com/">Sophie Dilemma</a> date and was already planning how to win Sophie over during the date. He had to give it his best shot and had every intention of making it all up to her. He’d decided that she was the one that he wanted and she was worth pulling out all the stops for. So he’d set himself the task of calling it off with Tam tonight. It was lousy that he’d only agreed to date Tamsin as a link to Sophie, but to publicly date Sophie at the same time, was pushing it - even by his standards.<br /><br />The office was empty. It was a rare occasion that he was the last out, but he’d been working hard on his tactics to win Sophie - it was only a couple of weeks until the filmed ‘date’ and he wanted it to be perfect. The small clock at the bottom right-hand corner of his screen displayed 19.38 and he hit the ’shut down’ button and watched it disappear, along with his days work. Unhooking his Northern Rock jacket from the peg by the water cooler he slid his arms in and zipped up - it looked shit out there tonight and Tamsin’s house was a good 15 minutes away...<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/06/chapter-fifty-ghosts-of-christmas-farce.html">Chapter Fifty</a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/06/chapter-fifty-two-ohno-moment.html">Chapter Fifty Two</a></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850211253049809209.post-23835569021673640812007-06-27T21:39:00.000+00:002007-06-28T21:45:44.606+00:00Chapter Fifty - The Ghosts of Christmas Farce<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" >Relationship Rehab - week 33</span><br /><br />OK, so what do <a href="http://www.loveactually.com/">Love Actually</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0243155/">Bridget Jones’s Diary</a>, <a href="http://www.dorisday.net/by_the_light_of_the_silvery_mo.html">The Light of the Silvery Moon</a>, <a href="http://www.nigella.com/">Nigella Lawson</a> and <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/bbcthree/programmes/perfect_housewife/abouttheshow.shtml">Anthea Turner</a> all have in common? Apart from the fact that they’re all SO last year? They all nurture an unrealistic view of Christmas.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RoLaE9I53fI/AAAAAAAAAG0/trpWVXRtslk/s1600-h/13+xmas.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RoLaE9I53fI/AAAAAAAAAG0/trpWVXRtslk/s400/13+xmas.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080863108293582322" border="0" /></a>The harsh reality about Christmas is that it’s about kids and couples and a huge quest for retailers to suck as much from our credit cards in as short a time as possible! Forget the snowflakes and hot toddy, lose any dreams of log fires and sheepskin rugs! It’s all a farce! There’s no mention of the hundreds of pairs of socks that men get on 25th December, or the rows over the remote control and the hours spent standing, sweating, over an uncooked turkey the size of a 3-year old toddler! It’s just not worth it! And then there’s the songs - I’ll Have a Blue Christmas, Without You! It’s all for couples and I’m delighted to announce that I’ll be in L.A. At least Christmas with sunshine will be slightly easier to swallow.<br /><br />With only a few months of Relationship Rehab to go I have to say that it’s been a tough year so far. I’d hoped that choosing to stay single would mean that I had loads of free time to be just ‘me’ - but the reverse has been true. As I’ve spent more time alone it’s given me lots of free time ... time for reflection, self-doubt and recrimination ... time to question why I serial-date losers and why, to quote <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/If-Wonderful-Why-Still-Single/dp/0749924608/ref=sr_1_1/203-0662635-1456718?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1182978610&sr=8-1">the book, “If I’m so ‘wonderful, why am I still single?</a>” It’s knocked some of the edges off of me, which probably isn’t a bad thing, and given me a slightly more realistic view of what a ‘good’ relationship means. But I’m still in no hurry to settle for a ‘better than nothing’ relationship.<br />So maybe this rehab is working....<br /><br />I won’t wish you a Merry Christmas just yet - we have another 3 weekends of raucous office parties and drunk revellers to endure yet..<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);">Sophie.xxx</span><br /><br />*<br /><br />I’d promised myself a shopping trip after work but I’m just too tired. I know I’ll pick up something for Mum’s wedding in either <a href="http://www.monsoon.co.uk/">Monsoon</a>, <a href="http://www.coast-stores.com/pws/Home.ice">Coast </a>or Zara but, thanks to a spinach, pesto and pasta lunch I have an absurdly bloated stomach tonight. And no - it’s not because of something else! So I’m swerving the shops tonight and can’t wait to get home. It’s been a tough day and AJ was the most irritating women ever as she fussed and foosted about with the box of tired old Christmas decorations. She spent the afternoon draping worn tinsel over the guys computer screens and talked incessantly as she bent and shaped the wire branches of the ancient Christmas tree. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RoLaztI53gI/AAAAAAAAAG8/v8hpJ1SVWn8/s1600-h/newtree7.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 49px; height: 102px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fB4BDD_EAVE/RoLaztI53gI/AAAAAAAAAG8/v8hpJ1SVWn8/s200/newtree7.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080863911452466690" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I think it was first bought when Woman To Woman opened - about 1968! I step out of work, in the dark again, to find that it’s cold and wet outside. Head down I brace myself, tightening the belt on my black raincoat, and make my way determinedly to the tube station. Can’t wait to get home and get out of these wet clothes. It feels like a night for pj’s and <span style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51); font-weight: bold;">hot chocolate</span>. Hmmmm..<br /><br />*<br /><br />I get home forty minutes later absolutely drenched. I’ve left my umbrella in my bottom drawer at work and the rain drops are dripping from my hair onto my cheeks and from the tip of my nose. Not a pretty sight. Forcing the key into the lock I stand on my door mat and peel my coat from me, only to hear Jen’s voice. It sounds as though she’s talking to herself, so when I check my reflection and see that my mascara has <span style="font-weight: bold;">panda’d </span>around my eyes and my hair is so wet it looks black, I make no effort to fix myself. She’s probably web-camming again. To be honest I’m a little concerned about her fixation with these dating sites and web cams. She doesn’t know I saw her, but when I got up late last night to go to the bathroom I noticed her, through the crack in her bedroom door, showing off on web cam. Showing off and showing all. She was cavorting on her bed wearing only a miniscule g-string and I was rooted to the spot, open-mouthed, as I watched her lift up her boobs and wiggle them to the camera with a giggle and pout. It’s like living with a recalcitrant teenager! So imagine how shocked I am to walk into my lounge and see her there - inappropriately dressed (I use the term loosely) in a pair of tiny shorts and vest. And Rob sitting in the armchair listening to her. I have to admit that I’m so shocked to see him here once again that I temporarily forget about my unfortunate appearance. I have to admit, he does look rather as though he’s losing the will to live. And I also have to admit that my groin kind of pings strangely as my tum flips - at the sight of his broad shoulders beneath his black t-shirt and his fabulous thighs, tight against the denim of his jeans.<br />Yikes!<br />“Sophie!” Jen jumps up as though I’d just broken in.<br />To my own home. She has the decency to blush a little.<br />“Look at the state of you, Soph! You’re dripping!”<br />It’s then I remember my wet hair, blackened eyes and streaked cheeks. Instinctively I bring my hands to my face and rub it,<br />“Oh, yeah. It’s hell out there tonight.”<br />Rob stands, unfolding himself before me and I feel myself slowly looking up into his rather handsome face. His voice is warm as he puts his hand on my shoulder and says,<br />“You go get showered and changed. I’ll make you something hot to eat.”<br />Obediently I trip along to my bedroom, sensing him go in the opposite direction to the kitchen.<br />And I can’t fail to notice the slight scowl on Jen’s face as she watches us both leave her to sit alone in the lounge.<br /><br />I like having him here, but I‘m not sure about Jen‘s motives and I am a little rattled that he‘s here so much lately. He‘s my new best friend, not hers. And what is she up to, anyway? She looks ridiculous in the vest and shorts combo on such a dreadful day and she’s an unnatural shade of orange thanks to her sunbed addition. She’s a typical addict - replacing one addiction for another! I return to the lounge, feeling 100% better dressed in my jeans and black wrap top, my hair feels sleek and smooth after a wash and blow dry. I’ve already decided that I’m going to call around and see Tam tonight. I’m not too sure what Jen is up to, but if I give her enough rope, I’m sure she’ll tie herself up in knots... Rob has made me a sizzling chicken stir fry and it’s gorgeous. Jen has a bowl of it too, which she’s staring down her nose at - you can virtually see her computing calorific / fat / GI content. But I have to say that for her credit and debit approach to trying to stay young, I feel I need to point out to her that the organic blue berries and soya milk are not negating the effects of the sunbeds and cigarettes. Her skin is beginning to look dire - wrinkled and dry and parched.<br />Rob will never go for her!<br /><br />Ohmigod - what made me say that???<br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/06/chapter-forty-nine-hair-raising-point.html"><br /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/06/chapter-forty-nine-hair-raising-point.html">Chapter Forty Nine</a><br /><a href="http://sophie-stayingsingle.blogspot.com/2007/06/chapter-fifty-one-bloke-on-arm-is-worth.html">Chapter Fifty One</a></span>alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09131528385336392754noreply@blogger.com0