Got a spare £15k?

Now this for those, who are really serious about their dating!

I spoke to a friend today, and a friend of a friend of a friend has joined a matchmaking agency. They match you up with 6 people (one person every six weeks). Every person is supposed to be chosen specially for you, based on your (and theirs) expectations and preferences.

They are aiming for ‘educated single professionals’.

As for all good things in life you pay. Sometimes you pay a lot.

For the privilege of meeting six educated professionals you’ll have to pay…


That’s the cheapest package, the most expensive is £15,000. Yes, fifteen thousand pounds.

You have to be really serious about dating to pay this money.

I won’t be joining. I’ll stick with my geriatric Telegraph Dating.

Too much honesty?

Telegraph dating. I picked the youngest of the bunch – 43. Not my type (Indian looking), but seems educated, and well traveled, so I thought give him a chance. He called me. He’s in Afghanistan at the moment, job…

We spoke for one hour, or so.

He hasn’t said ONE funny thing.

He did tell me though that the mothers he’s had met were tired looking with under eye circles. He also told me he doesn’t believe I have time for dating, being a full time mother and with a part time job (how do you know I work part time? come on, I’m 43, I know what realistic. Well, darling, I do work full time….). He also told me he’s picky, and 50% of women he meets (and he meets a lot) look much worse in real life than they do in photos.

Then I asked a question I should have never asked – do YOU look better in photos or in real life?

To which I heard: Oh, it’s a difficult question to answer… I’m told I look better in person… do you want to know how many knickers I get into on the first date? (I shouted ‘NO’, but was unheard), well, it’s a lot, I’d say 40 to 50%… (“I don’t really need to know it, not during first conversation”)… you asked – he added.

He also informed me that he can have any girl he wants because he’s tall, fit, and healthy. Plus wealthy.

Oh boy, what do I say to that….

A millionaire from Shitville.

So with the job, and all that, I have really little time for the internet these days. It’s very unusual for me, I have days when I don’t even check facebook, I don’t think that ever happened for four years or so!!

But that’s not what I wanted.

I wanted to mention a strange phenomenon. On my dating site, when I just search for guys age this to that, I get a lot of them, and most of them are managers and directors, if one is to believe what they tick in the ‘profession’ field.

But when I narrow the criteria to certain income, I get blokes from…hm, say poor villages around, places where wannabes live, council housing is very common, and usually you would be scared to venture there in the night.

Soooo, how honest you think those profiles are?

Quality comes with age?

IImage‘m eying a dating website. I thought I’ll try again. This time, it’s Telegraph Dating.  I heard it’s a good dating website, full of quality men. Telegraph readers support Conservative party, the newspaper itself is considered, together with The Guardian and The Times, as one of Britain’s big three quality newspapers. So members of Telegraph Dating should be of quality too.

They may be. I haven’t paid the subscription yet, and I don’t know if I will. Average age of its male members is…. 52.3. I calculated that by taking average age of guys who viewed my profile in one day.

The youngest one was 39. The oldest – 82. Looking at the profiles I felt as if I visited geriatric ward. But then I have to decide what I want – a young hunk, with great body, and a lot of fun, or a mature man with wobbly bits and stability….

How about having both? 😀

Iron me flat.

ImageI live in a pretty, old Victorian street. Houses are old and charming.

And today I was walking like an old, Victorian servant delivering laundry to a posh Victorian lady. With a laundry basked balanced on my hip, with some shirts in the other hand, I proudly walked down my street. Knocked on the door, and delivered the ironing.

My neighbour was away, so her husband let me in. Very charming guy. A young lady poked her head out of the room. If I hadn’t known, I’d think he’s having a lover over when his wife is away, but I know he’s got a daughter from first marriage.

Now I just have to wait and see, if my ironing meets her high standards and whether she wants to use my ‘services’ again. Would I like to? I’m not sure. This ironing took me 4.5 hours. I finished at 11:30. In the morning the shirts were creased, so I ironed them again. When I came back from work, shirts were – yes, you guessed it – creased! So I ironed them for the third time. And I still wasn’t happy with them. Of course I can’t charge her for 4 hours, because maybe it was only me being slow? If my maths are correct this ironing will earn me even less than my regular job. What a treat!

Wheel of life

God, I fell so low!

Never despise people who are “lower” than you.

I used to have a full time maid. I used to dine at Ritz, spend my days lounging by the pools and shopping at Dior and Tiffany’s.

Now I have a minimum wage salary, AND I just applied for another job. I will iron my neighbour’s pants. I don’t have to do it, I have enough to live on, but I figured those extra £30 a week will be nice.

I used to spend more than that in one morning out with friends…

Never laugh at people who are lower than you on a social ladder, because you never know where you will be in 5 years time. All I’m saying.

Should friends do favours?

I went to the dentist today. He and his wife are my good friend. Not best friends forever, but solid ‘good friends’.

He treated me before and gave me some discount. Was I wrong to assume that it will continue? Obviously I was!

When I went there this time we had a nice chat about his wife and my friend, about our children, who are friends too, about his house renovation and mine too. Then he dealt with my tooth, then we chatted a bit more. We hugged, kissed, and I went to pay the bill.

Not only he charged me full amount for the filling, but he also added £50 for ‘consultation’, which was, I presume, checking my teeth and telling me which of them need feelings. I’m sure dentists have huge markups on their services. Fine, running a surgery costs, so do materials. I get it. Charge me for that. But whacking £50 for ‘consultation’, which costs him nothing?

I admit. I was a bit taken aback. Of course I didn’t say anything, after all we are friends. After all that doesn’t automatically mean that he has to give me discounts.

Perhaps I’m too demanding. Perhaps in western society things don’t work this way.

I asked my boss (who was, together with his wife, my friend prior to becoming my boss) if I could get a product for myself. Sure, why not. How much would you like me to pay for it, I asked.

He knows I know exactly how much the things cost. After all I’m the one ordering them from the supplier. We get them at 65% off, plus additional 15% off that. Plus 20%VAT on top. So say item that retails at £100 would cost us £36. I think. I suck at math. But I think. He said I can have them for £50. We are a small company, it’s not like thousands of employees would abuse the system if they were given things at the cost price. But am I demanding too much?

So should friends do professional favours? Or not really? Would you?

Smoke and no fire.

I was truly multitasking.

Browsing profiles on, watching The Voice (a singing competition, do you know it?), drinking sherry, eating chorizo, and cooking. I decided I’ll prepare the sauce for tomorrow’s lunch, hence the cooking at night.

Lunch was going to be spiced figs with mozzarella.

So I put 2tsb of balsamic vinegar in a pot, together with 150ml port and 1 cinnamon stick. It was supposed to boil until it thickens. So I set the alarm for 5 minutes, and came back to my eating, drinking, browsing and watching.

Until I heard smoke alarm going on like crazy.

I run to the kitchen. Kitchen was black with smoke.

Dining room was black with smoke.

Alarm is ringing.

My daughters run downstairs scared: mummy, mummy, what’s going on?

I open all the windows, trying to let the smoke out and shut the bloody alarm.

Somebody knocks on the door. It’s my neighbour. We got worried, he says, there is a lot of smoke coming out from your house, is everything all right?

Yes, it is. Apart from the pot, it can go straight to the bin.


Shopping and sightseeing in Greece.

Some more photos from Greece. Enjoy!

View of Athens


Athenian kitten 🙂Image



Brooch anyone?


Flea market. You can buy pretty much anything there!ImageImage

A man selling lottery tickets. They sell them everywhere. I’ve been trying for 20 years, said one waitress with huge smile. I’ve never won anything!Image

How much you spend on weekly groceries?

Here is a very interesting article. Countries around the globe, and photos of their weekly groceries. Some spend £300 per week for food, some spend £3 only.

The more developed the country, the more junk and processed foods they seem to buy. Poor countries survive on rice and vegetables, and hardly any meat.

How much do you spend on your weekly groceries?

What do you buy?

Any other comments to this article?