PROGRESS REPORT WEEK 5

Ok I know I'm a bit late with this, but hey, who's counting.

I went on my date with Greg on Sunday. I wasn't as nervous as I expected to be. We met at Tate Britain. This made an interesting change from Tate Modern where, on any weekend at least 89% of visitors are going on first dates.

My first thought on meeting him was that he didn't look like how I remembered, perhaps not surprising as it was at least 6 weeks since we'd met before and on that occasion we'd only spent an hour together.

I took him into the Members Room and we had barely sat down on the sofa when suddenly, looming above me, was a man braying in an RP accent:

"Martha Fox - Martha Fox!"

It took me about 20 seconds to work out that it was someone I knew vaguely through work. I stood up and we did the slightly excruciating dance/kiss thing that you do with people you don't really know. (English people are inept at this but, compared to Irish people, they are almost European in their approach to social kissing.) Later it occurred to me that it was just as well that I hadn't given Greg a false name. I mentioned this to him as I thought it was quite funny but he didn't seem to find it as amusing as I did.

The time with Greg passed reasonably well and during it I was pretty sure that I wanted to see him again. We never once mentioned the drama that occurred between our last meeting and this one.

When we parted at the station he didn't kiss me goodbye which seemed odd.

Overall I felt a sense of relief when he'd gone and I was back on the tube, reading the Observer magazine and planning what I'd have for dinner.

On reflection Greg didn't make me laugh once and I didn't make him laugh either. Contrary to the evidence provided here, I am quite funny although acknowledge that the slight awkwardness inherent in these situations does sometimes mask wit and the ability to make intelligent conversation. He didn't ask me many questions about myself .

When I got home I was still fairly confident that we would see each other again....and then the texting began.

ARE MEN MORE ROMANTIC THAN WOMAN?

I wasn't particularly aware of texting until about 3 years ago. I was probably first alerted to it by reading curmudgeony letters in the Guardian giving out about young people writing things like C U L8R.

Of course now texting is ubiquitous and forms an essential part of courting rituals. I think it is brilliant for arranging appointments, for letting people know you're going to be late or confirming where exactly you are meeting but it is not a substitute for proper communication. In my view texts should be used in a limited way and in very restricted circumstances; to give information, to flirt or for the occasional bit of filth.

The text messages I dislike most are the soppy ones:

- Thinking about you loads xx

- Yes me too x

- Are you thinking about me every minute? xxx

- Yes quite often x

- Can I send you a big good night kiss? xxxx

- Yes that would be fine x

- Don't you want to send me a big good night kiss? xxxxx

- Feck off and don't be annoying me! I'm watching Newsnight and I can't be arsed with this kind of adolescent crap.

Maybe I'm just not cut out for relationships.

Progress Week 4

I couldn't do my progress report on Sunday as I was away for the weekend in the land that broadband forgot.
In any case I have nothing new to report.

I started internet dating about 3 years ago. A few friends had already dipped their toes into the murky dating waters and two people I knew met partners within weeks of signing up which was what prompted me to do it in the first place.

I was incredibly nervous about it and convinced that I would be recognised within hours by everyone I've ever known or worked with.. For a week or two I felt like hiding my face on the tube in case any of the other passengers were also registered on the same site and would know me from my photograph.

Within a relatively short time I was corresponding with a few people but felt terrified about meeting anyone in the real world. One of the correspondents was called Louis.

For several weeks Louis and I sent each other messages, initially on the site and then via email. He seemed interesting enough although I was slightly put off by the fact that he was a nurse. (Internet dating is great for making you face up to your irrational prejudices.)

A week or two passed and we agreed to meet. At this stage I decided we needed to exchange telephone numbers. I sent Louis the number for my land line and explained that if a a man answered the phone it was a friend who was staying with me. I don't know why I didn't give him my mobile number.

The following day I got a reply.

I do not understand this. Why would a man answer your mobile phone? Is there something you have not told me? Please explain this at once.

I didn't reply and I never heard from Louis again. It knocked my confidence though because it seemed to demonstrate that the men using these sites are very strange indeed. How could someone not recognise a London land line number?

Progress

Remarkably I have something to write about.

Obviously, as a single person, unlike all of you out there in smug-long-term-relationship land, I do have a sex life of sorts. Well what I have is an Arrangement. Initially I thought the Arrangement was going to be a Relationship but it wasn't to be.

My Arrangement came round to see me this week however our opportunity to behave in an inappropriate way was stymied by the fact that I now also have a Teenage Lodger and neither the Arrangement nor I was barefaced enough to do anything while the child was in the house.

But this isn't what happened to me. What happened is that Greg who inspired me to start writing this has been in contact.

The question is should I agree to see him?

I ask the Teenage Lodger, having given her a slightly edited account of how Greg and I met and then fell out.

"See, I kinda met this guy and, like we really liked each other, and then we had a misunderstanding like, and didn't see each other again and then he like, in a totally random way, contacted me and now like he wants to see me again so, like, what should I do?"

The teenager lodger advises me to see him.

I email my friend who lives overseas and currently doesn't have her sorrows to seek in relation to matters of the heart.

She advises me to see him otherwise I'll always regret it not knowing how it might have turned out.

I talk to my friend the Academic on the phone.

"What? That tosser's been trying to contact you! Have nothing to do with him! The man's a messer of the first order. Not that's there any point in me talking to you, for sure you never listen to a word I say so you don't. Just don't come crying to me when it all goes wrong. Honestly, I don't know what's wrong with you you're so.................................."

I gently set the phone down on the sofa and within moments get all the 8s in the sodouko puzzle in the Guardian. Another minute or two passes.

"...............so I'll not waste my breath anymore on telling you what to do because sure what's the point."

The Academic is very stressed at the moment and so am I because I genuinely don't know what to do.

Review Of Week 3

One of the reasons to write these reviews every week is to force me to reflect on what I have done towards reaching my goal of finding a partner. The problem is I can't be arsed; either to write the review or to do anything about finding a partner.

The closest I got this week was sharing a taxi home with someone. There was a period in my life when the combination of drink and a black cab always resulted in at least a snog. This time the man in question did fall on me and tell me he was half in love but unfortunately it was the drink that made him fall over and the person he confessed to be half in love with is not me. I told him off in a very Miss Brodie-ish way and then lent him the money to continue his journey home.

I cheered up immensely though when I read in today's Observer that the average person in a long term relationship only has sex about once every two years. Perhaps need to review my plan as do not want to reduce number of times I have sex in a year.

Must do better next week.

Ten Reasons Why I Will Not Be Contacting You

1. You have ticked the "Caucasian/white" box only
2. Your interests include computers
3. You are wearing a short-sleeved shirt in your photograph
4. You have ticked the "slim" box only
5. You are looking for someone aged 18 to 39.
6. You have ticked the "Take Drugs: Never" box (the correct answer is "Not any more")
7. Your interests including curling up on a sofa in front of an open fire with something red in a glass.
8. You use the word "lady".
9. You allude to your car/salary/house.
10. You enjoy reading self-help manuals.

Review Of Week 2

A friend of mine met a woman through a dating site a few months ago. My friend - lets call him Eegit - is a really nice man but isn't always the best judge of character.

The woman in question came from New Zealand and had a fairly impressive job in the city. For the life of me I couldn' work out why she might be interested in Eegit. That is until we had the following conversation:

Me: So how's it going with your one from New Zealand?

Eegit: Alright I s'pose. I don't know though - she's maybe a wee bit odd.

Me: What way odd? Apart from being interested in you of course.

Eegit: Well she's been sharing her fantasies with me.

Me (beginning to panic as do not wish to hear strange NZ woman's fantasy which may involve Eegit); Sure now I don't need to know about that. It's a private thing between the two of you.

Eegit: Not those kind of fantasies! No it's just that she told me that she likes men in uniforms so she does.

Me: For god sake's sure that's just normal. Nothing odd about that.

Eegit: No but it's a bit more than that. Apparently when she sees a man in a uniform she stands beside him and then gets a passerby to take a photograph of the pair of them.

Me: That is taking it a bit further than most. Tell me does she distinguish a-tall between uniforms? Like would a postman be as good as a Scots Guard? What about a man in the Salvation Army?

Eegit: If you're not going to take this seriously I'm not telling you any more!

Me: No I am taking it seriously. OK it doesn't sound great but sure everyone has their wee quirks and remember, beggars can't be choosers.

Eegit: No, but there's more. Apparently in her living room she has one of those coffee tables that has a piece of glass that goes on the top of it and what she does is she gets the photos printed and then she displays them under the glass .

Me: Feck! You haven't given her your address have you?

See, this is the inherent danger of meeting people through dating sites. You could end up spending time with someone who has the most appalling taste in interior design.

Progress this week - 0%.