You know when you are expecting something to happen that you deny never will, but secretly wish against all wishes that it'll come true? Well, that's how I have been feeling today. My mind has been full with thoughts about Nick. Should I make some time for him and expect him to ask me out? Should I just go ahead and ask him myself? No, no...I don't want to come across too desperate - even though I am - because that would just scare him off. And that happened to the last one...no, two men that crossed my path. I guess I need to work at my people skills. But I'm not about to go and scare this one away because I get too into it. Not this time. See? Full of thoughts. I needed to get out and do something. I needed to distract myself.

As today has been vile weather, I haven't really wanted to do much. I didn't work yesterday because of the blessed flexi time, and today I called up sick. I know...I'm terrible for pulling sickies at my age, but the thing is, I had too. I had something much more interesting to attend!

And that was meeting Will, Sarah and Zoe in town for a bagel and a coffee. I would have to say that, without a doubt these guys are the greatest friends I have ever had. They are loyal, funny, erratic and outspoken...just my sort of people. Lots of swearing, innuendo fuelled jokes, loud and mouthy behaviour. When I'm with them, I'm a different person. I am not bothered what the neighbouring table think of me. I loose my paranoia and my self consciousness. I'm outgoing and crazy. I love it! And when Zoe called me up this morning and said that we were all meeting for a bagel, I just couldn't resist.

All morning and early afternoon we were in the cafe, talking and laughing. It was brilliant! I'm so glad I missed work today for this, believe me. Sarah was spinning off her latest heartache from her lesbian loved Jess. Every day is like a soap opera for that girl! God knows how she does it. I suppose it's easier being gay? I don't know really, but I sure know that her and Jess have been going steady for a while. Sarah always feels the need to divulge to us the details of their sex life as well. This, of course, gets Will going (all men love lesbians, right?) and Zoe just sighs and makes icky noises. I however, find myself fascinated. When she describes what she does with Jess in between the sheets, I often find myself thinking about it and being drawn in by it. I know what you're thinking...I'm a closet lesbian. Well, I am not. I had one experience when I was about 17. Me and my friend Laura Majesky had a brief encounter at a party one night. Nothing to get het up about. It was just a snog and a little fumble here and there. But, really, it resulted in nothing but ill feeling between us. She started developing feelings for me, and I started to realise that I wasn't actually very comfortable with the "gay" thing. It wasn't me. Sure, I was curious, and had had alot to drink (age old excuse, right?) but at the end of the day, I wasn't into girls. I quickly got myself a boyfriend after that and broke her heart. She never spoke to me again and moved away with her family a year later. I dont know where she is, but I guess it would kind of nice to chat to her again. Just for a little bit. That girl, right there, is the reason for my only 'wild' experience whilst I was growing up, so as uncomfortable as the whole situation made me at the time, I actually hold it in quite a high regard.

So, time rolled by, and Zoe got up to leave. She had to catch a bus to back home. Her partner was coming home from work, and she just had to be there for him. As much as we love Zoe, she is a massive door mat when it comes to Henry. I say partner because he is 15 years older than her, and it just seems weird referring to him as her boyfriend. There's nothing boyish about that guy. He has about as much youth as my dads old factory stories. But, she loves the bastard, so what can you do?

As Sarah, Will and I walked down high street, I started going a little quiet. Goodness knows where it came from. My mind was blending so many thoughts together all at once - graphic lesbian sex, Laura Majesky, Nick, my hideous job, my lame degree, my dads old stories - everything was roller coasting around in my head. Will and Sarah were just talking about politics - Will was for Labour, Sarah was against - and I just let them get on with it. As we reached the tube station, Will turned to me and asked me if I fancied another walk. I didn't really have anything else to do and it wasn't as if I had my job to go to, so I agreed. Sarah bounced down the steps to the underground and Will and I walked towards Hyde park.

It was raining a little bit by this time...it was walkable weather...slightly refreshing if anything. Now, Will and I are very close. I would say I trust him the most out of the girls, even though I have known him the least amount of time. He knew that something was on my mind (he has that habit of reading my thoughts) and it was now that I took my opportunity and told him about Nick. He was intrigued to say the least. He and I were the two singletons in the group, and we both understood each others predicaments, ergo, we could help each other. And today, Will gave me some really good advice, a friendly ear and a solution that has quite frankly calmed my brain down ten fold!

He thinks that the whole Nick thing is exciting - his words were 'The sort of thing that happens in fairy tales...' but he also told me to be careful about this guy. All he is to me is a voice on a phone. I mean, that's how crazy this is!! I don't even know if he is cute or not. This is like a blind date for the digital age, for Christ's sake! Still, he thought that maybe it would inject a little bit of excitement into my week if I chased this up, and that's when he suggested that I call Nick, arrange to meet and get Will to be a discreet stranger in the background. If something starts to go wrong, or if this guys turns out to be a weirdo who prays on the flesh of helpless young girls from call centres, Will can step in. I'll give him a signal or something. Isn't he a fabulous guy? I mean, if it were any other situation, I would want to date Will, but the fact that we are so close (and I couldn't find him attractive if I tried) doesn't help the romantic train along for us. I am more than happy with what we have now.

So, it's 6pm now. I still need to call Nick and arrange this date thing. I'm trying to pick my moment. Well, I could watch Deal or no Deal then Hollyoakes and then see where I am then? Good idea Annie...

Here I am again. It's been a well rounded full blown 12 hours or so since I last wrote anything...and believe me, the time has flown by. I have been somewhat busy today. Well, when I say that, what I really mean is that I have been...lets just say occupied.

I left last night in a quandry. As I crawled into bed after a very mundane shift at work, my thoughts were only filled with one thing - the phone number I had in my pocket. Was I going to call it or was I going to throw it away, and reject yet another potential opportunity for love. These questions were swimming around my head for so long, I found myself lying in bed, wide awake, triyng to make patterns out of the shadows on the ceiling. I think I finally drifted off at around 2am. I had a restless night last night - just dreaming about crazy things (things of which I wont bore you with now!) and when my alarm woke me up with a startle at 9am, I realised that I wasn't any more rested than I was 7 hours previously. Typical!

I slipped into my dressing gown and slippers, had some cereal and watcher Jeremy Kyle (another morning ritual). This episode was about a woman who had rejected men all her life and was sick and tired of being alone. She was, like, 45 or something, and due to her terrible past and rough upbringing, she felt like she could never trust a man. I started thinking about myself, all alone in this flat, huddled up in my dressing gown, with nothing but my cat to keep me company. Jasper is always so understanding and intuitive. He knows exactly when something is wrong. I think cats have instinct like that, don't they? Anyway, he made a comfortable spot on my lap, whilst I lay there comparing myself to this lonely heart on TV in front of me. I started thinking about the phone number...everything just seemed to coincidental this morning. Seriously. I just kept getting this feeling that I was getting nothing but signs telling me to call this guy...call this guy...CALL THIS GUY...at the end of the day, he's just a human being right? Nothing to be scared about. If I get scared, just hang up...

I thought sod it and made my decision. Just after 1pm this afternoon I made the call...it took me long enough though! I was trying to rehearse what I was going to say to Jasper. He was just purring at me...didn't really help me. Eventually, I got so fed up with worrying about the same thing over and over again, that I just picked up the receiver and dialled the number. 1 ring...2 rings...3 rings...he wont pick up...4 rings...5 rings...must be out with his mates...6 rings...7 rings...or his girlfriend...8 rings...why would he give my his number if he has a girlfriend?...9 rings...10 rings...maybe he thinks I am just one of those 'easy' types...11 rings...well, I most certainly am not! How dare he pressume...12 rings...git. Think he can make me the 'bit on the side', does he? I am not about to let....

..and then he picked up...

I hung up about 15 minutes later, my heart racing, my pulse beating and my skin all goosebumpy. One of the most surreal conversations I had probably ever had! His name is Nick and he lives in Kensington. That was just the start! He told me all sorts of things about himself and whilst he did I hung off every word he said. I asked him questions and he answered. I just couldn't seem to shut up. Maybe I was just trying to avoid the dreaded 'So, enough about me. Lets talk about you' line. I mean, that sort of stuff should be saved for the first date, right? The conversation finished with me knowing lots and lots about him, and he knowing hardly anything about me, other than my name, my age, where I lived, how much I hate my job and when I was next available.

Which, by the way, made me respond with fright and panic, and I blurted out 'I am not sure really. Erm, let me check my diary and call you back?'....rule number one...never say YOU'LL call back. That's just a blatent code for telling someone you arent interested without saying "I'm not interested"...

So, it's 10:30 at night now, and I don't have to go into work. I am sat in my flat on my new PC (which I am starting to get used to!) with my thoughts playing ping pong in my head...back and forth...back and forth. I am trying to think when I am next available. I guess he'll want to go on a date or something? Do you know how long it is since I've been on a date?

Too long, that's for sure.

(written last night at 21:30)

Tonight has been somewhat of an out of the ordinary night. I never really thought that anything interesting could EVER happen at this place, but lo and behold, it did. Somehow, a little bit of excitement was injected into the atmosphere in this open plan jungle, and, so far, everyone has been in a pretty good mood. Apart from me, of course. Well, I say that - I was in a bad mood until about 10 minutes ago....

I arrived at work about 4:30pm and was greeted by...well, noone really...just Moira, the overweight lady who sits opposite me. There is only a panel screen that separates us, and I think they are meant to grant us privacy at the work place, as stipulated by the government or something...I think it's a load of b**s really. I mean, if you wanted to keep everyone private from everyone else, you wouldn't stick them all in an open plan office with windows so big that they would give the solar panels on the Hubble space telescope a run for it's money (or a zero gravity float for its money) would you? You would build individual cubicle's...not that I'm bitter about my panel screen...I just can't stand to look/hear Moira. She aggravates me. She has one of those high pitched laughs, that, when listened too, is like someone scraping their nails across a blackboard, but when taken up a notch, dogs and bats gather from miles around, going insane in the car park outside our window. Not only that, but she tries to make every customer she talks to her best friend. I'll be sitting here, doing my work, when my ears will prick up to the sound of "Oh, a new baby boy, how cute..." or "Fantastic! I had a feeling he would do well in his exams. You must be so proud..." I mean, they could be her real life friends, but when she talks about new births and exam results to every customer she gets...every...5...minutes of the day, I tend to think that, no, actually, she's just being over familiar. I think that's what I don't like...her over familiarity.

I sat down at my desk, shuddered a little when Moira laughed, and put on my head set. My first call beeped through. Some woman who claimed to have paid for the paint set, but didn't actually receive the product. I transferred her to my supervisor as soon as I could. Anything to stop her complaining. And this was how my afternoon went. For 3 hours straight...complaints about not receiving the paints, or the paints had dried up and, apparently, I am a master a rehydrating them and should instantly how to fix the issue. Again, I hit transfer. I took a break and had a coffee whilst reading Heat. The half hour rest was lovely, just kicking back and reading about Jennifer Anniston's latest arrival of cellulite that made me feel so much better about my 'shapely' behind. But, before I knew it, the beeping in my ear was back and the grind had started once more.

But then I got a beep that I don't quite think I'll ever forget.

It started out normal. "Hi, I am ringing about your paint set. I saw it being advertised on QVC" (typical!) "and I was just wondering if it would be possible to order one."
Well, this was a refreshing change...polite, male, no disgruntled mother whose child had threatened to leave home unless their paint set arrived in approximately 4 minutes...so, I responded with politeness. It was probably going to be my only chance to be civil this evening. And what I got was something I hadn't really prepared myself for...he said:
"Wow...you have a really beautiful voice..."
I was like, WHAT!!!!?!???!?...noone has ever said that to me before. I mean, sure, when I was in the school play, singing Christmas carols, my Dad would compliment my singing, but I think that's because he had to more than anything. But some random man saying my voice was beautiful. I was gob smacked to say the least.
How did I respond? Like an idiot, of course. I started spluttering something about how my old teacher used to say I was articulate, and then how I won a prize in year 8 for having the 'most interesting things to say'...oh my god...was I becoming Moira?

Well, he laughed and said that I was a pleasure to talk to. He said that if I would like to chat some more, outside of the working world, I should call him. He gave me his number & his email address. It's a local number too! So, that must mean he's close by.

Now, most normal women my age would probably jump at the chance of calling up some guy who thinks they are beautiful. At the end of the day, that's all we're looking for, right? Someone to call us beautiful. But, me being me, I start to worry and panic. I over analyse everything and make mental pros and cons. Seizing the day has never been a strength of mine. So, why should it change now? Truth is, I am torn. I'm still sat at my desk...Moira is still yammering away to herself and I am still getting callers...they are dying down a bit, but they still come every so often. I only have an hour left, and then I go home...

Do I call this stranger, or do I not?

Hello there. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Annie. Annie Ball. I am 28, live in London and work as a telesales representative (which I loath) for a company that has something to do with selling art products. I have a 2.2 degree in fine art (yawn), I drink too much wine & coffee, I am desperately trying to quit smoking (although, these days, it would seem that smoking is trying to quit me!), I have a cat (jasper), I am addicted to game shows & reality tv, I love crosswords, cartoon strips & "Heat" magazine, I despise any famous actress who is prettier than me (especially Keira Knightly...), I live on my own, I don't have a boyfriend and I get fed up all too often with this fact, but the one thing that makes me feel better is taking a hot bubble bath every Sunday night with my Kenny G CD on and a bottle of red wine (again, too much wine.)
That's me. That's who I am.

So why have I decided to start writing this? Well, the other day I got out of bed and slumped in front of the TV with a bowl of Kelloggs Crunchy Nut and a cup of coffee. I usually make a habit of taking a shower before I do anything, but this was a Saturday and I had promised myself some much deserved R&R time. Anyway...on comes the news with a story about the internet and all the 'stuff' that it has out there! Now, I must admit, I know as much about the internet as I do about the way men think...YouTube this, Myspace that...but, as I was sat there in my fleece dressing down, I came to the realisation that I am actually in the minority with all of this cyber stuff. I had no computer. No wireless bandbroady thing (or whatever the hell you call it) and no clue about what any of it did. It was time for Annie Ball to 'modernise' herself a little bit. So, that afternoon, I bought myself a little PC & had had a crash course on how to use it by some 40-something geek called Neville, who no doubt still lived with his mother and, I'm pretty sure, was trying to come on to me. I was tempted to ask him if he truly did believe he was a sex god...but, I stopped myself. I needed to learn how to turn this damn computer on, and this comic reading, star trek obsessing, attic residing weirdo was the only way I could learn!

So, by the evening I had my new PC all set up, internet was on, lights were flashing...everything seemed to be going well. It was actually rather exciting when I saw my very first webpage! The colourful logo from the Google site made me tingle inside! Sad, I know, but when you come from a family who downright rejects all things modern and new, its hard to progress your technological knowledge. It's not that my family are Amish farmers or anything. Nothing of the sort! They are just very black and white people, opinionated sometimes, complacent at others...middle of the road, sitting on the fence...you find a saying that describes neutrality and it'll fit my parents! My Dad, bless him, working in a train engine factory from the age of 16 until the age of 40. He then left and landed himself a little desk job in a solicitors office. My mum...well, she was a housewife and raised me to become to woman I am today...nice job mum (note the sarcasm). My mother and I have never really got on, but we pretend...

As I was saying...I was getting used to this internet thing, when I came across this website. I quite liked the idea of 'blogging'...so that's why I am here today. That's why I am writing this. I quite simply like the idea!

Right, I have to get moving. I have work soon. I am doing the night shift at the call centre. *sigh* my job is awful. I dont think there could be anything quite so degrading as an aspiring artist realising that her dream to paint beautiful landscapes will never happen, and having to resort to working long graveyard hours, flogging boxes of novelty paint and glitter tubes to people who are crazy enough to part with their money for them. I honestly don't know how I sleep at night. I have to sit on the phone and talk clueless parents into spending £50 for our paint set, one that you could quite easily put together yourself for half the price. It's morally wrong, but people do it, and its those people who pay may wages. No wages, no living in this flat. See? There is some justifiable logic to why I do this job: I need the money. How pathetic is that? I used to dream about getting out there and painting the world - meeting new people, seeing new things...but, sadly, things don't work out as you plan them, do they? You get your degree and you suddenly realise that you are in the big bad world, and you need to earn some money...fast. No room for idealistic fantasy lands. Just bills, 9-5, looking forward to your lunch break, carpet shopping at the weekend, the never-ending frantic search for utility companies that could save money, complaining about the raise in council tax...cest la vie though, right?

I really must go now. I think I may write later, from my desk. I'll wait for my supervisor to go home. If boredom strikes, I know where to come.