sex lies and videotape

Ok, that's a bit misleading, especially given I've not seen an actual videotape this century.Actually, that's a lie too as one of my best mates still "tapes" her favourite shows and watches them when she's bored. I digress.


While relaying the events of another thrilling "night in the life of a London girl" to my colleagues one morning last week, it hit me. P.A.T.H.E.T.I.C! Honestly, I'm in my prime (or at least all the Uni boys I date think I am) and look at me I am dissapointing couples who want to live vicariously! Wednesday night consisted of a bad relationship programme on BBC2, a skipped stop at the gym, a massive bowl of popcorn and sign up to a new trendy dating website. I was quite happy when chatting about my very enjoyable evening until I realised I was being met with looks of horror from my two very coupled work mates. It appears they depend on me for tales of drinking until the wee hours or a date gone awry; clearly I had let them down. Never one to dissapoint I awoke the next day with a renewed vigor toward my rather lagging dating roster these days. Unfortunately, on a Friday morning I had no where but the office to take all this new found motivation to pull. I therefore spent most of the day flirting with the camera man who was shooting a video for me. I am strict "no company pens in my ink" kinda gal, but

1. he does not work for the same company I do

2. I cannot watch any more of those pathetic shows

3. He was fit



So there you have it, that was Girl Friday's Family version of sex, lies and videotape. Oh and Lpeg.....London is fab. As long as you can party like a rockstar, like me.

Standards

I read a statistic in the Metro on the way to the gym last night which made my long time strategy of remaining single seem extremely sane: 8 out of 10 18-35 year olds polled in London said they had or would cheat if given the chance. That's special. So special that I now feel very justified in my current no dates status.

Bitter is as Bitter does

It's not usual for me, I rarely go there, but from time to time I hit a patch of bitter along the slick roads of life. I refuse to blame it on being single, because I reckon you can be resentful and angry regardless of wether or not there is a warm body next to you each night. Saturday I was having brunch with 2 girlfriends and with very little prompting heard myself launch into a tirade on men in general and a few in particular. I could hear my own insanity and realised that people at the surrounding tables were likely warning their children to stay clear of crazy in the black top with the eggs benedict. I don't even know where all that hostility came from. I would like to think it's me taking on the plight of every single (ok all 3) girl in my life, but in reality it sounded more like I had a personal vendeta against anyone packing their own travel size frank and beans. So disarming was my one person speakers corner monolouge that I turned to my friends once I ran out of breath and asked the all important question, "Am I bitter? I think I might be bitter! Or am I just realistic." They did as any good women in their (very cute) shoes would do. In unison they replied NO! of course you aren't. Well, yes, I think I am, but I also think a good evening of flirting will knock it right out of my system.

Wanted: Mojo

Mine's gone missing. Positively, definitely, no doubt about it....gone. I do geeky PR, the kind where the men outnumber the women in most situations 3:1. Given the region that I cover, sometimes it more like 8:1. Last night at the T3 awards I couldn't pull for love or money and I think I looked pretty cute plus I brought the girls. The fit bloke seated next to me at dinner ended up getting lured by a lass who mysteriously switched her engagement ring to the other hand by the entree and started referring to her "boyfriend" as loudly as possible by dessert. There were men everywhere, straight men everywhere and not a one for me. The only semblence of male attention I got all night was when I was gratuitously groped by the very gay emcee when I went to accept our award. This leads to me to only one conclusion, my mojo has gone missing. It's happened before, about 2 years ago, and I can't remember how I found it again but I better sort it out quickly. Resigned to no attention and too much to drink I also made the mistake of digging into my goodie bag and eating cheese and onion Hula Hoops in the cab on the way back to mine securing my spot in loner ville for at least another 24 hours.

Friends....erm kind of

Where does the line between 'I love you' and 'I am in love with you' begin and end? If a relationshio begins as platonic is it forever destined to be only that or can it evolve from love to LOVE? One of my best(and hardest to walk away from) relationships began in a true friendship. The kind where you tell each other everything, hang out when you can't be asked to go on a date, give one another advice on the opposite sex and don't care if they stop by unannounced first thing in the morning for coffee. The thing is, if you take that to another level, will you ever get what you had back if the romance doesn't work? And if you do, will it forever be tainted? Once you cross a certain line with a friend, there's no dipping your toes in the water to test the temperature before a dive. It's all or nothing, you know each other too well to ask about sybllings and Uni studies over a pint. It then becomes futures. Kids or no kids, dog or cat, home or abroad. But is the risk worth the reward? I guess that depends on your nature. Are you a risk taker who lives life on the edge and puts it all on red 23? Or are you prone to take the comfortable route and play it safe? To those in my life who are asking themselves these questions at the moment, I wouldn't change my decision for anything and neither should you.

I shop...I am

Hello, my name is Girl Friday and I am addicted to pretty things. They say the first step to recovery is recognising that you have a problem. I'm not sure I'm ready for recovery, but I am pretty sure my love of pretty things is becoming a problem. Today while strolling on Kings Road I stopped dead in my tracks, taken completely by surprise, I gazed lovingly through the window of Furla...at a pair of shoes. So intense was my focus, so amorous my gaze, I didn't realise the hot guy talking to me. Apparently he didn't realise I was checking out £350 of happiness vs 178lbs of hunkiness. It wasn't until he mumbled under his breath and walked away in a huff that I snapped out of my stilleto haze and realised what had happened. Is it hopeless? Am I hopeless? I fear recovery is no where in sight.

Exit stage right

My anticipated entree back into the dating scene was a non starter, yet somehow still left me feeling just a tad bit rejected. After much planning (too much for my likeing) and the decison of where and when ending up with me, he didn't show up. I got a very apologetic text the minute I walked into the pub, but I couldn't help wondering if he saw me and bolted. Most probably he really did have "a friend with an emergency" but it does make one wonder.
Now it's on him, but I am guessing Sgt Pepper and I fizzled before we sparkled.