What. A. Year. (WAY) :o)
A year during which the above odd new punctuation style first became known to me, on twitter. For that matter, a year during which I finally succumbed to the lure of twitter.
Cliché as it is, this year has been a real ‘roller-coaster’ year. It’s had some of the biggest / most prolonged highs and one or two of the deepest lows I’ve ever experienced.
A very quick glance backward on these last, short, twelve months and I instantly – morbidly – ranked 2009 at third-worst of my life, just behind 2000 and 2007, in first and second worst place respectively.
But was it really as bad as all that?
On the plus side:-
I achieved 67.5% of my 40 new year’s resolutions – a thorough review of these is to follow as well as the compilation of a new list for 2010.
I’ve made some good new friends – much needed.
A new job found me and I left the miserable and obscure company I had previously been slaving for – greatly improving my work/life balance.
I learnt to share my life and my personality, a little. Mixed success – naturally.
J’ai amélioré mon français, un peu.
Went on about 100 first dates. Yes, you heard right. In fact, I’m going to record some of them…
Dear reader, I bid you warm welcome to…
Scott’s First Date Awards – MMIX
The Top 5
First Place – JO
No contest – won hands down, fair and square. Truly wonderful lad from Hull who runs a pub. Very last minute and spontaneous first date arranged in Shoreditch, London. Only person I’ve met in many years who I’d seriously have wanted to share my life with. Honest and sensitive, interesting and intelligent. Sensibly rejected me after third date and posted a hand written ‘goodbye letter’ about which I have mixed feelings.
Second Place – RW
Very frighteningly – like me! (I know – poor thing) Very ‘compatible’. Works for The Bank of England (An economist.. urgh) but interested in history books and adores wine and travel. Lives in Greenwich in a flat spookily furnished with almost precisely the same items as you’d find in my humble East London abode. First date was outside a bar at the very windy Canary Wharf and I was bitterly cold. Lost touch somehow – a shame.
Third Place – AW
Another nice Northerner – humble and calm – a very nice person to be around but failed to arouse any interest in more than a cup of tea and a biscuit, either in me or himself (apparently). Date was initially a cup of tea at my pad which actually turned into dinner, film and a long chat into the small hours. Still in touch.
Fourth Place – AR
Spontaneous dates tend to be more successful in my experience. This one consisted of a very last minute dinner with a funny and interesting architect from Sweden, after work – mid week – in a perfect restaurant in Angel, (Elk in the Woods) followed by cocktails – though he didn’t (assuming still doesn’t) drink. Saw one another for a couple of weeks before I was rejected over commitment
Fifth Place – JM
Strictly speaking, this was a second date since we met very briefly in late 2008, long enough to exchange numbers and take about 6 weeks to arrange the first date of 2009 on a cold night in January. Exceptionally interesting person – very knowledgeable and the conversation was stimulating – first over cocktails, then over dinner and finally over the dance floor (also happened to be one of the most competent non-professional dancers I’ve come across to date). Managed to seem very interested in me that evening but alas, the night proved to be one of those ‘one-hit-wonders’ – really great but never repeated.
The Bottom 5
Worst – ??
Can’t even remember the initials, let alone first name or telephone number. A dreadful, vein Italian ‘model’ who arrived late, who’d aged badly on his way into his mid 30s (helped along no-doubt by over-use of the tanning machine). Perhaps my most boring date ever – not just 2009 – and although it was only about 16:30, insisted on ‘taking me for dinner’, in a lamentable £3.95 Chinese buffet in Soho, which I had to pay for since they wouldn’t accept cards and he didn’t have cash on him. We parted almost immediately after dinner, thankfully.
Second Worst – SJ
I’d been out drinking with work colleagues and I turned up an hour late and so drunk I could barely speak. Entirely my fault. Very awkward and short conversation with a very awkward and short person who had a very awkward and short temper. Invited me to a very over-sized bar (huge and empty) on Brick Lane at about 8pm. I arrived at about 9pm (having forgotten all about it until he text, cross having waited for an hour) and I was back in the pub with my colleagues by 9.45pm as it was just very obvious we didn’t like one another. So that was that.
Third Worst – NC
A sober daytime date – risky always. Saturday afternoon – offered to take me for a walk around Victoria Park. When he arrived he seemed hangover and or very, very tired. Was just finishing an espresso as he plodded (15 minutes late) up to me, and then insisted on being allowed to buy another before he’d be ready to walk anywhere at all. Moped around the park stopping to sit at every opportunity – didn’t really seem interested in talking to me so much as staring into space. Very arty, lovely looking etc. but just vacuous in the extreme. Asked if I had coffee in the house. Replied that no I didn’t, and don’t, since my first and last cup of coffee was in Ireland in 1995. I didn’t like it so didn’t have it ever again – I decided to treat this particular coffee-drinker in the same manner as I treated coffee itself: once was enough.
Fourth Worst – PW
Cinema dates don’t work – they’re a nice idea but really it’s just not the most sociable place. Enjoyed the film but at the end found we’d booked at an awkward time so that it was too late to sensibly stay out any longer and too early to be satisfied that the whole evening had been well spent mid week – c.10pm. Awkward exchange of promises to do something again soon followed by a short (and final) goodbye.
Fifth Worst – DL
Originally had grand plans to see something great at the Barbican or somewhere similar, maybe have dinner beforehand too. This was downsized by me on realising that it was an awkward time of the month (cash flow-wise) for me (something like the day or two before payday.) Thinking cap on, I ended up proposing taking a commuter river-boat down to Greenwich and back, from Canary Wharf. The boat had a bar, thankfully, and I love the Thames Clippers services past Canary Wharf because the speed restriction isn’t applicable and that allows the boats to speed up such that your hair (and Gin if it’s carelessly positioned) is blown backwards with significant force – quite invigorating. Alas, that was all that was invigorating. I suspect I was to blame for a very quiet, shy performance from my date: I had probably been something of an anti-climax as a ticket for a trip on the Thames wasn’t quite the tickets to Tchaikovsky we’d both have preferred.