Strange Fruit

Knowledge is knowing that tomato is a fruit, wisdom is knowing that it would taste bloody  awful in a fruit salad (and whilst I digress, did you know that banana is a herb that actually tastes pretty good on pizza?)

Anyway...

As I creep closer towards the flirty 30 club, I feel a strange sense of relief. I loathe nightclubs and I'm expecting my 30's to be filled with gluten free baking, fine wine collecting and out of body experiences in New Orleans with Mr Amazing. There's a certain comfort and confidence that comes with coming of age (I like to refer to the 30th as the er... second coming) For example:

I used to avoid wearing monochrome when dining out so as not to be mistaken yet again for the waiting staff. Now, I wear whatever the hell I want and if someone is fool enough to try and order from me, I  happily take that order and inform them that there will be a slight delay with the food but if they order champagne at the bar, it will not be added to their bill. Eat that!

So on that note, here is my 2 pence worth on embracing maturity, with a special dedication to those who are old enough to remember way back when Britney was allegedly a virgin and to those who come from a simpler time where one could not use the internet and the house phone at the same time.

Negative people will appear in your life as frequently as a TescoPretabury Metro pops up on a patch of land. Though we may prefer to support our local shops, buy organically farmed produce and mop up our balsamic reductions with artisan bread, there will come a time when you need muscovado  sugar at 7 am on a Sunday so we must recognise TescoPretabury's place in society. This is my long winded way of saying embrace the naysayers for they usually work in your Finance or IT  Department and can make your life heaven or hell.

You cannot 'tolerate' something you believe to be equal to yourself and by that reasoning I don't believe in tolerance nor do I wish to tolerated, endured or accepted. Sometimes you may be misjudged or mistreated but never take the ignorance of others to heart.  

Don't wait until you hit a certain milestone to get working on that Bucket List. Once in a while it's extremely liberating to stop over thinking things and just go with your intuition.

Don't make excuses for a love interest. You know when I realised that 'I'm not ready for a relationship right now' was bullshit? When I told the lie myself! I don't believe there is a single person on this earth who would not want to love and be loved so if someone does not respect you enough to give you the truth, respect yourself enough to move on quickly.

Never date when you are feeling vulnerable. You will only attract bottom dwellers who aim to keep your self-esteem as low as their position on the eligible bachelors list (somewhere above Iain Duncan Smith but below Charlie Sheen)

Unless you're very lucky, a friend or partner will wrong you and try to justify their actions by saying it was done out of love. This act, in itself is a mark of unrepentant insincerity. When a person tries to pee on your head then tell you it's raining, make sure you have you umbrella ready before they get their pants down!

I can't eat what I want anymore but that's cool, Woman cannot sustain humanity on Haribo alone and apples are marginally cheaper.

The twenties are a beautifully troublesome period full of learning, collecting material things, uncertainty, entry level purgatory and the daily struggle of usurping those bitches who seem like they're out to get you.  Now spotting that Island I can swim to for rest, nourishment and salvation, I see a time in the near future where I can focus my energy on the things that really matter and have time to ponder once again on why people buy expensive bottles of wine that they don't intend to drink for years. I sit on my Island as a BOSS!

Xx

The Queen's Speech

You've got to hand it to dear Queen Lizzie. She stood in the cold and rain for hours waving at her loyal subjects whilst thinly veiling her dismay at a rather flaccid looking flotilla. To top it off, she had to endure not one, but TWO performances from Robbie Williams. Apparently she threw her iPhone at Gary Barlow afterwards, appalled that both Adele and One Direction were missing from the line up. I would never have kept it together that long.

The extra long weekend, the soggy bunting, the cry of unused barbecues, the hellish hangover, has put me in a  reflective frame of mind. We are now six months into 2012, and despite achieving a great chunk of my New Year resolutions, the arguably most important one, still remains untouched. I'm still out of love with love.

I can't quite pinpoint what it was that set me off on the course of romantic self-sabotage. Perhaps it was the newly married, and extremely flirtatious man who was drunkenly sharing tales of his sex tourism. It could have been hearing the story of the guy who turned to his  lover in bed and said " The girl I like may be single soon and I really want to keep myself available, but I'm happy to keep our thaang going in the meantime". Or " I got to 30 and decided to propose because she's the prettiest of the bunch and annoyed me the least." Most likely cause, is my penchant for megalomaniacs... They tend to dress well and I love a man in a good suit.

With a defense mechanism higher than Bobby Brown, it's easy to see why one would chose to date such men. You can make a thorough assessment of the risk before getting involved, that way, the chances of getting hurt are minimal. As are the chances of being happy.

Life is like a box of chocolates, it doesn't last very long for fat people. So with that in mind, I'm making immediate changes. I'm going to live a little, take risks and even drop my PDA ban. It's taken me a long time to realize that letting a few bad experiences taint the way you view love is one of the most harmful things one could do to oneself. And surprisingly, I mean that with no hint of irony... If the Queen can tolerate Paul McCartney singing the same song at all of her shindigs 60 years in a row, then making a romantic gesture won't kill me.

Xx

Love Me, Love My Blog

I recall eavesdropping on a conversation in which some male colleagues were discussing the physical attributes of their coworkers. It went a little something like;

Fat Bald Guy: I think I should get rid of Relatively Attractive and CERTAINLY out of my league girl.  Working with your Mrs is a f*cking nightmare, she keeps pulling me up on my flirting, it's like we're married or something. If I wanna keep my options open, that's my prerogative... Have you seen the new blonde in events? Ooosh. I'd destroy the hell out of that.

Possibly Impotent Old Man: Who's this? Girl we wouldn't be discussing if she reverted back to her natural mousy brown colour? Oh yeah, I'd love to have a go on her. (If I could. I'm crying on the inside)

Male Samantha Brick: You's lot should broaden your horizons. Kinda girl I want won't be found here. If she don't look like Kim Kardashian, I ain't interested. Don't get me wrong, these girls are OK for a bunk up but I'm not committing to anything less than a 10. Have you seen Cheryl Cole's pic in today's Daily Mail? She's looking rotten.

Marketing Lackey: Don't care much for Cheryl, the fat b*tch.

It's no secret that many men are shallow and delusional, but a valuable lesson can be learnt from this misguided bunch. We are all commodities. If you want to attract a better rate on the open market, your shop front should not look like a closing down sale...in Libya.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with aiming high, in fact, I encourage it, but any fisherman will tell you, you cannot catch salmon with a cardboard rod.  If you have a set idea of the kind of person you want to settle down with, you really have to ask yourself why this perfect person would want you.

Not such a pleasant thought perhaps, and rarely one tackled with the required honesty. It's not about being someone else to attract someone who may not exist, it's about being the best possible version of YOU.

• Addressing the things that make us unhappy and taking steps to change them. There is nothing attractive about a girl who listens to Morrissey whilst crying into an empty ice-cream tub.  
• Really looking after yourself, physically. (Slimmer people make better stalkers)
• Being secure in your own gorgeousness so that you don't need constant reassurance...(you know that's annoying, right?)
• And most importantly, you should be looking for someone who'll enhance your life rather than bring in a missing element. Broke ass people take note, being self sufficient is sexy. 

Xx

BFF'S

 

In some strange way, it seems that everyone around me is trapped in an abusive relationship.

 I have a friend who constantly succumbs to the whims of a man who is completely unworthy of her. He only calls when he wants something, namely instant gratification and someone to play nurse for the evening. If they go out, he spins a pitiful tale about  accidentally cancelling his cards, giving his last £20 to endangered dodo's or being forced at gunpoint to spend his entire salary on Hermes cuff links (he doesn't get paid much). So she accepts yet another IOU, knowing full well, he'll never pay her back. She spends the rest evening being upstaged by his iPhone.

When they go out with friends, he reveals the little secrets she thought were just between them, plays on her insecurities, flirts/sexually harasses everything around him, then laughs and tells her she's paranoid if she questions his behavior. To add insult to injury, she has accidentally been copied in on an email in which he demeans every fibre of her being- from how easily she forgives - to how he is certain of the fact that he could sleep with her boyfriend anytime he wanted to.

Yes, you read the last bit right, for imagine this scenario is not with some loser of a boy, but with someone you call a friend. How can behavior like this be so unacceptable from a man yet many of us are accepting this crap from our girls? I used to be afflicted with such bitches until I learned the value of my time and friendship. Having put together a highly scientific study of the human leech, I've come up with a simple check list that'll help you spot one before you're sucked dry (steady).

• They run a spectacular gamut of emotions in a five minute conversation; a conversation in which you are barely allowed to speak.
• They fell out with their old best friend for "no reason- not at all my fault-she suddenly turned psycho"
• You drop all of your plans to assist in her emergency- and promptly discover this emergency is which pair of heels make her look the most shaggable. 
• Keeping up with  her love life requires a librarian, a secretary and a small news desk.
• She insists on borrowing your clothes, though they are too small for her. She then tells you she looks better in them. 
• Others say shes excitable but you'll learn to love her. This simply means she is a dick, but you'll get used to it. 
• You know the name of her first pet; she forgot you had your leg amputated yesterday. 

Bad Bitches

Its been an age since I last blogged  and my, what a lot has happened in that time. 

In summary;

• I've restricted drinking to twice a week meaning 75% of the people in my life are now intolerable.
  
• I'm three glorious months into my health kick and have the self-righteous glow of a wealthy cleric. 
  
• I've moved into a wonderful flat, the only downside being an agoraphobic housemate who has been driving me crazy with her passive aggressive post-its and eerr...dirty protests... Rather than let her creepy whistling piss me off (much) I've decided to use her as my inspiration to work even harder. Yes, 2012 is about being happy, successful and at peace with myself.

So with this new ethos enhancing my life like Photoshop on Madonna's face, you can imagine my amusement at being labelled "over-confident" by three different men. One being a grotesque middle manager who's flirtations are met with deadpan put-downs, the other, an ex who I think has only just discovered fire, and most amusingly, a random date I had. 

This 'date' was with a guy, who despite having an MA in Philosophy or some other subject people who love the sound of their own voice like, seemed rather simple. He spoke only of his last Black girlfriend (alarm bells), who he took to the Seychelles and she dumped him on arrival. After I listened to him bore on about sending her hate mail, mild stalking, prank calls in which he tells her to fuck off and die, and putting photos of attractive girls on his Facebook profile to make said ex jealous, I decided it was time to put the cocktail down and conceal the nearest weapon under my sleeve. On discovering the entire relationship lasted 5 weeks, I told him to seek help (the only words I contributed to our conversation)  He then proceeded to tell me that I obviously hate men and have a massive ego.

After I finished laughing my fine ass off, I though I'd better come on here and vent some faux-feminist rage.

Yes, after all the things I've been through I am still confident. Sometimes, sometimes it's a mask that protects me from the vile creatures that inhabit this world, but mostly I am confident because I know I am a great girl. 

Now, if you're expecting me to lower my standards for you, or be bowled over when you act like a gentleman, or expect me to accept less than the best treatment from you due to your 'status'- then I'm afraid you'll have to suck my metaphorical.  

 Oh and Liz from Zimbabwe...call the police girl!

Yes (Wo)men

 "Advice is something we ask for when we already know the answer but wish we didn't..."

Now I've thought about this one long and hard, and, although friends are usually the first port of call in a romantic crisis, they absolutely shouldn't be.

The reason we turn to our friends is because deep down, we know they will tell us exactly what we want to hear. Even I tend to favour telling a friend to 'give it more time', rather than tell her that the overwhelming sound of her biological clock is clearly obscuring the sound of her boyfriend's bullshit. When we ladies gather together, we seem to get geed up on this chick-flick mentality that there will always be a happy ending. Even Jennifer Aniston knows that's a lie!

Things is, you already know whether or not he is an arrogant twat who is unworthy of your time and if so, stop repressing your instincts, stop the delay tactics and the whining and do something about it!  If, on the other hand, you know he's 95% perfect and was just having his man-bitch monthly, then please don't subject your friends to hours of analysing his every mind-numbingly inane move. It comes across as self indulgent gloating, especially when one has the audacity to subject a single friend to this without supplying wine and cheese.

 If your partner is pissing you off you need to tell them, no one else. Don't expect to change your Shrek into Daniel Pimentel. You can't polish a turd but you can roll it in glitter. But, if said man remains a stinker, don't be afraid of pulling the chain, on your own, just like your parents taught you.
 Seeking advice is a false sense of security blanket. It's securing someone else to blame when things go wrong. It leads to self doubt, which in turn, is an act of self sabotage and is about as healthy as a deep fried Christmas pudding.

So let's have a little more confidence in ourselves, a little more faith in our significant others and save the bawling for genuine crises. (Like 6 lb weight gain!!)


Photo is Girl with Balloon by Banksy

Big Men...

I'm often baffled by the notion that women prefer bad boys. Who and where are these 'women', who are gagging to be ball and chained to some unimaginative, inattentive, arrogant oaf? Apparently they're more exciting, like you never know when they're going to remember their wallets or which one of your friends he's going to poke.

Who is perpetuating the myth that if we stick with the bad boy, he's going to transform into a man worthy of a hallelujah? He won't. That's the thing about dicks: they're thick, selfish and  utterly useless after a short spell of exertion.

This is going to be a really unpopular statement but: I find SATC's Mr Big really irritating. I fail to see why this womanizing, cradle-snatching, late-for-his-own-wedding, commitment phobic man is attractive? 80 percent of the Carrie's girly lunches were spent moaning about Big's cheating or disappearing acts. I remember watching at 15 thinking, "do women still have these conversations at 40?" 40, for sods sake! If only Carrie spent less time neighing and whining, and more time building her self-respect, she would have got her dream wedding instead of his.

So, why is this extremely wealthy playboy with a dodgy ticker, so appealing to women? ...oh, wait!  Mr Big probably isn't the best example. He's bad-ass in an Ivy League way, and when an apology is accompanied with the gift of your own walk in wardrobe, it's hard to stay angry. But why aren't there many thoroughly good, totally faithful and beautiful boys in the movies? Ones that don't die at the end of the film and go on to have a library named after them. Men with a heart like Forest Gump but without the er... never mind. How about less movies where women are winging on about some Alfie wannabe and a little more recognition for the nice guys. It's taking a lot of women FAR too long to discover that relationships are not supposed to be shit   unfulfilling. Remembering a woman's favourite perfume, restaurant, song and flower is pretty sexy in my book, so give me Aiden any day!