Shallow…not really but maybe in my fantasies

So I’m on the 149  listening to alittle Bronski Beat minding my own business when I catch eyes with an adorable man, all hot and lumberjack like.

I’m thinking YAH if we date we’d live near each other. I’m noticing he has pretty eyes and he made the effort to smile at me even though I’ve transitioned from curvy to chubby over the holiday season. I’m fantasizing we’d walk through Clissold Park holding hands on summer days. I’m  day dreaming of us laying in bed arguing over whether we should watch Arrested Development or Modern Family.

I’ve basically laid out our lives together for the next 6 months when I notice his hands.

His tiny little hands.

It’s like my mind won’t let me be happy even in my fantasies. I’m obviously not going to interact with this man as that would require moving my fat ass so why couldn’t I just continue to throw flirty smiles and ignore his smaller than average hands.

I tried to rationalize the whole situation with some good old fashioned logic, I’m not perfect so why should he be but really he should be!  I spent 2o minutes on the bus home imagining our lives together, if I wanted imperfection I’d actually talk to him and ruin the fantasy immediately.

I feel bad for being shallow but I’d like to defend myself. I’m only shallow in my fantasies.

In real life I’m picky about personalities and mostly I date quirky looking guys. I’m all for personality and cute smiles. I hate muscular bodies as they’re hard and I bruise like a peach. I must admit I have a thing for good hair and big noses but they have to come with an amazing personality and a love of Mushroom Dr Oetker Ristorante pizza.

If I knew a guy and liked him I’d find his small hands endearing and kiss them constantly but on the bus home I like to relax so if a guy goes out of his way to catch my eye he’d better have average sized hands or be wearing gloves because I don’t need to stress of self hating because of my shallow fantasies.

Merry Christmas!

Happy holidays!

Christmas Parties…

So as a newly employed staff member I went to my office’s Xmas party with some tribulation and a hint of curiosity.

I work in a two person office so I was intrigued by what the head office staff would be like.

There were 3 women at the party including myself … one was in her 40’s , the other an Essex girl with a tan that made me grateful I faint in heat…so basically I was the best of a bad bunch and the men knew it.

I was hunted like a gazelle, I took it as a compliment as it’s not often in London you get to feel  like the prettiest girl in the room.

Out of the 40 odd men at the party I immediately spotted the only guy with hair with personality and sure enough within seconds of catching eyes, we gave each other the nod.

My nod was about acknowledging we were both surrounded by people who liked Black Eyed Peas, I’m not sure what his nod was about but I felt a kinship

The night flew by with me mostly stuck between people talking about projects they’d done before I started at the company but I seem to have perfected sleeping with my eyes open.

The guy with the hair approached the bar while I was nearby and proceeded to try have eye sex with me. I felt slightly violated   even though he had great hair as A: My boss was next to me and B: His gaze was deep penetrating and I’m not an exhibitionist.

I would have liked to talk to him and see if his hair was right about him and he hated Counting Crows but the thought of making out with a guy from head office on week 2 of my new employment was alittle frightening.

I hope this isn’t a sign of a new sensible Anna…Gasp!

What will become of SlightlySingle if I keep making sensible decisions and avoiding men with good hair

Fear not New Years eve is fast approaching and since I’m surrounding myself with like minded folk music lovers at The HMV Forum I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunity to misbehave

Currently listening to Dead Man’s Bones – Lose Your Soul and hoping it’s not a prophecy for NYE

deadman’s bones

It’s Not Your Folk – Spotify Playlist

Dear Blog

Hey …how are you?

I know I’ve been as neglectful as Jedward’s hair stylist but I’m gonna make some effort to show you some love again.

Please forgive me and accept this gift of music…

It’s Not Your FOLK

Warning: I’m a bit folk obsessed although there’s some genre less music on here ie. Tom Waits

xxx

Slightly Single The Webseries…

So I’ve been all talk no action for awhile now but only because I’ve been fighting some serious writers block but today I had a break through 1 page of my Slightly Single screenplay written and it mostly includes the lead character drunk and disorderly – nothing like myself

I’m using my blog entries as a guide for my writing so when I finally get funding the series will be like a window into my life with an amazing soundtrack and better looking boys.

Keep a look out for my teaser campaign coming soon

xxx

What’s In A Name?

If I walk into a room and meet a man named Chris I’m leaving either with his number or a bruised ego.

It’s a strange thing but the last 5 men i’ve been interested in have been called Chris. The question is …am I attracted to them because of their name or is it a weird coincidence in the universe that has made me lust after only Chris’s for the last year.

More importantly do men have this same problem: am I an Anna in a long line of Anna’s?

I have no idea, all i know is when a man says his name is Chris I know there’s trouble.

What is the 20-something version of a Cougar?

It’s been brought to my attention that recently all my boyfriends/boy crushes have been quite literally…boys.

I’m not talking illegal, obviously, but definitely two or three years younger than me. I’m hoping it’s a phase since I seem to be aging and they are not, as a case in point, I found out last weekend that a manchild I dated last year had lied about his age and is only now 21.

Does it make me a bad person that what upset me the most was the fact he’s stayed the same age while I have gotten a year older and a year closer to needing plastic surgery?

I shouldn’t whine since it’s a two way street and these young-ins are attracted to me but I worry I’m going to become addicted to how complimentary young men are and how refreshing it is to meet a man who isn’t hung up on his ex-girlfriend.

I did try and date a 30 year old guy but he was way too serious and made me feel like at any moment he’d drop down on one knee. I had a panic attack when I went to his house and he’d bought wine that cost over 10 quid. I broke up with him pretty soon after that.

I’m definately a commitment phobe

All this typing has made me ponder my future love life – can you be a commitment phobe while looking for love or is that like being a marine biologist and afraid of the ocean.

‘ I like ‘em new. Not like you’

KIDS

Idiosyncrasies…with a side of fries

My (ex) boyfriend once said what he loved most about me was my idiosyncrasies. I was hoping he liked my ass but alas I’ll take what I can get. So obviously that relationship didn’t last and now I’ve got all these idiosyncrasies that aren’t actually that lovable unless you’re into Liz Lemon.

Sigh!

Some of my idiosyncrasies that I’m willing to talk about in public are:

* Irrational fear of Adult Cot Death – Not common but I’m so scared I set an alarm even if I’m trying to sleep in (like that will help)

* I can’t sleep with mirrors facing me- too many Japanese horror films and some feng shui thrown in

* Love of all things panda and other black and white mammals such as badgers and killer whales.

* Irrational fear of sharks coupled with a complete fascination of how cool they are.

* Inability to travel to Thailand for fear of tsunami’s

* Obsession with Buddy Holly and all men who vaguely look like him

* I fondle diet coke cans daily searching for the coldest one in the fridge

* Dislike of overly long tongues

These are the ones I can think of on the spot which is not a good sign because it’s the ones you don’t know about which are usually the weirdest.

God help the next poor bastard who tries to date me.

Spotify!

Bonjour!

I’ve made a super eclectic playlist that features :  She Keeps Bees, Rock Paper Razor, Swanton Bombs, Most Valuable Players plus others.

ENJOY my carefully selected playlist of songs to curl your hair too

INDIE

NYC!

So I took my slightly single ways to New York for some spending therapy and general tom foolery.

1 week in NYC= 850 quid = OUCH = baked beans for the rest of the month

I had a great time, although my dreams of hot men finding my foreign accent sexy crashed completely.

In general any boy hunting failed completely but I enjoyed sight seeing too much to be offended. What did offend me was how people were weirdly cliquey  in Williamsburg (supposedly the Dalston of NYC).

I felt very clean and pretty darn excluded from bars in Williamsburg. The regulars were like the characters from The League Of Gentlemen. Tattooed woman grumpily murmuring ‘You’re not local’ in my ear was a little too much for  my vacation. I wanted to like Williamsburg because I live in Dalston, but there definite moments were I doubted the comparison between the two.

One- Dalston is a judge free zone, I’ve been at Jazz bar at 5am in the morning dancing with bankers to Will Smith and Jazzy Jeffs Summertime and had a smashingly good time. Two – people in London regardless of musical taste dress WAY better than New Yorkers and don’t judge others need to express themselves through colour . Three – People are familiar with cultural diversity and embrace fun to be had in many languages.

The most fun I had in NYC was in the Lower East Side – people were friendly and not offended by my colour coordinated to the max outfits.

I think the comparisons between Dalston and Williamsburg need to stop as they’re misleading. Maybe Dalston should be compared to the Lower East side since I’m now its biggest fan and thinking of designing a new T-Shirt range cleverly including I heart Lower East side in one T-shirt, not to be confused with I heart Les Paul or I heart Lesbians (although I think both Les and lesbians are pretty darn rocking) x