So my nickname is Bridget...it's been Bridget since I split up with me ex-fiance 6 years ago. The reason?? I am the epitome of Bridget Jones, wanton sex goddess...and like her I tend to fuck things up a bit. It's not a conscious effort on my part to do so...it's just the way things turn out.
I'm known for my inability to find a love life because I tend to accidentally mess things up. If I meet a guy I like, odds are that he's gay or attached or on occasion manic depressive and obsessive. On one occasion wanted by the police in connection with a burglary...just kidding there but you get my drift. There is always something that kicks me in the arse.
I don't meet many guys that I like or crush on so when I do it's a big deal. I have had 3 crushes since arriving in Canada 2 years ago and 1 relationship (If you can call it that) that lasted the lengthy time of 2.5 months. He was 29 years old going on 13 so for obvious reasons it didn't work out.
I started to ponder if it was something I was doing wrong...maybe it was me...maybe I was the one with the problem. It occurred to me that it was just a matter of random bad decisions on my part in who I was finding attractive. The question is can you really choose who you find attractive?? I've been out with guys who's face looks like a slapped arse but have great personalities and then been out with guys who look like gods but have the personality of a duck with one leg.
Looks are definitely not the first thing that attract me to a guy. SMARTS are. If a guy is smart it's a huge turn on. Then I go for sense of humour...they need one if they even want to be seen out in public with me. The chronic accidental misadventures that I get myself into are an integral part of our potential future! Then I go for everything else.
So what generally happens if I find a guy I like?? Some examples not unheard of would be serious blushing. I mean I go lobster. You could put me in the middle of a poppy field and wouldn't be able to pick me out. I giggle ALOT. Not a trait I want a potential guy to see. Sometimes I will fall over things or walk into things or accidentally hit things in a fit of excitement. My whole nervous system becomes uncontrollable and I can't seem to co-ordinate myself properly. I babble like a complete idiot and if I think I'm going to say something stupid that I don't even want to say I ignore them to save face.
It's a complicated thing and there are thousands among thousands of factors that can set the odds of finding someone you really relate to and click with. The odds are huge....
So the English girl decided to go on her first blind date in Canada last year...what a disaster. The guy turns up at the bar. His name was Dan, 37 and he spoke like a Californian surfer (that should have been my warning sign). He was nice enough looking and the evening started off well. General chit chat about where I came from and how I was finding living in Canada. I then pursued conversations about him. Turns out that he thought Jean Claud Van Damme was "the greatest actor in the movies ever" and he liked monster trucks and hard liquor. If he'd said he liked porn I might have been more impressed.
No more blind dates EVER. PERIOD.
In the mean time Bridget will plod along alone...having nights in with the cat, getting tipsy and prancing around the house to ABBA, Backstreet Boys and every other guilty pleasure music that everyone hates to love (you know you do it too). At least she gets to sleep with B.O.B. He doesn't talk so I really can't fuck up there. Knowing my luck though the batteries will short out, electrocute me and the coroner will have a very interesting story to tell at parties....
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