Friday, 20 January 2012
Back in May, following a meeting in Stirling, I got on the train back up north and bumped into my good friend, Miss Brodie.  We chatted away about what we'd both been up to and before long she asked me the now typical question, "how's the love life?"  I began to wonder if I should just start wearing a badge with the statement "my love life's non existent".  Maybe that way people would stop asking and I would stop feeling like a relationship failure.  As it was I gave Miss Brodie the generic answer.  She seemed to think she had a solution to my now regular issue and recommended I checked out one of her male friends as she was certain he was single and keen to settle down.  Naturally I was sceptical at first.  After all, this was the woman who had tried to set me up with her future Brother in Law who appeared completely illiterate even by text standards.  This guy did seem promising though, 6ft, had hair and more importantly was English.  Yes, I have a "thing" for Englishmen. 
She seemed convinced that I knew this guy she was suggesting, that we must have been in each other's company back in the days when we were 18/19 years old and hitting the pubs.  The name certainly seemed familiar but I definitely couldn't make a connection.  Miss Brodie suggested that I check him out on Facebook as he was one of her friends on there.  I explained to her that I'd come off Facebook in the New Year and didn't access it anymore, so that was that.

On my way home from Glastonbury while standing in the Sleazyjet queue at Bristol Airport I spotted a guy who looked suspiciously like he was also returning from the muddy fields.  Ok, so it was the wellies and Glastonbury wristband that gave it away.  Once I was on board the plane I decided to make a bee-line for Mr Glastoman as I was desperate to speak to anyone who was willing to listen and share experiences about the last 5 days.  He seemed more than happy for me to take the seat next to him.  As luck would have it the third seat in our row was taken up by another guy that had been to the festival along with his brother who was seated across the aisle.   The two brothers were veterans just like myself but Mr Glastoman on the other hand was a first timer and was still on a high from the experience. It didn't take us long to get into conversation about our festival highlights past and present and resulted in the flight feeling like it had passed in seconds.

While at baggage collection waiting for our respective dirty rucksacks we all discussed meeting up for Glasto 2013 and so went about friend requesting on Facebook, except I hadn't been on Facebook for over 6 months, well, my personal page wasn't on Facebook but my blog page was still up and running.  However, I'd only just met these guys and I wasn't so sure that I wanted them to have access to my blog when many of my own friends didn't know about it. So, after very little persuasion I rejoined Facebook so that I could stay in touch with my new Glasto buddies and little did I know what the result of that would be.

That Friday night, 3 days after I'd rejoined Facebook, the night before my date with Mr Shorty and after a few glasses of wine, Miss Brodie's earlier recommendation of a potential date popped back into my head.  I'm not sure what triggered this, but triggered I was and searching through her friends list, I came across him.  His photo was a little fuzzy so I clicked on his profile but his settings were set to private so I thought what the hell and friend requested him.  He accepted almost immediately and I went straight on to his profile to view his photos and see whether Miss Brodie's recommendation was an improvement on her last.  I certainly didn't recognise him but regardless of that, there was no doubt he was handsome.  Suddenly I had a message from him.  I opened it eagerly and it read:

"Hi, nice to see you again - hope things are good with you x"

Nice to see me again?  When did he first see me??

I responded stating that I had no idea who he was although Miss Brodie had assured me that I would know him from the past.

His response had me in fits of laughter, he had no idea who I was either and so that was the beginning of a beautiful new Facebook friendship.  We had a few email exchanges and he seemed to be ticking a lot of my boxes, he appeared to have a sense of humour, was literate and a member of Mensa!

The following day we had a further email exchange while he was on a train to Edinburgh, I remarked how he should have travelled further north and he replied that he'd be doing that the following weekend, which filled me with a little excitement.  Suddenly I found myself wishing that I was going out with Mr Mensa that night instead of Mr Shorty and surely that was a bad sign?  This was only the tip of the iceberg of things to come.....



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Bird on a Wire
Imagine Carrie from Sex and the City morphed with Bridget Jones and a baby thrown in for added entertainment – that’s me, the ever optimistic romantic looking for my Mr Big but already with child! Read my blog from the beginning where I find out I am pregnant following a brief fling with my much older male colleague and fast forward to where I am now, stressed out working mum to my beautiful 10 year old daughter wondering if love really does in fact exist at first sight.
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