Showmantic

"If I had to choose between loving you, and breathing, I would use my last breath to say I Love You"

If the above quote made you feel all gooey inside, you should probably stop reading this and go here instead.

Don't get me wrong, I adore romance in all its tacky, scattered rose petals, chocolate covered, champagne guzzling glory. What I'm not keen on is an entire commercially driven day dedicated to public displays of affection between: couples who are far too old to be tonguing each others dentures in public, couples who think it's OK to dry hump against you on the tube, couples who obscure your view at the theater with their stupidly large Valentine's teddies, emo tweenagers who bandy the L word about like they invented it and, most vexing, the Kooples

Lets be real. Valentine's day is all about the showmance and nothing else. It's dead behind the eyes like a lonely atheist on Christmas day and, like chrimbo, it's all about bragging to the other kids about what you got from 'daddy'.

I don't want to celebrate anything that doesn't come with a day off work. I don't want to feel obliged to do something special just because Hallmark wants me to and I don't want to feel like a sour faced rixatrix if I'm alone on the day. I want to fill (almost) everyday with romance, every Sunday morning with sumptuous breakfasts in bed and make Valentine's day redundant...we're in a recession after all.

Having said (or ranted) that, I'm not averse to receiving plenty of roses tomorrow, and I don't mean the shitty chocolates either... ;-)

XxX

A little S&M...

Having tried it, I must say I am not a fan. I'm not talking about gimp masks and spanking, I'm talking about the torture we inflict upon ourselves daily. Are we thin enough, tall enough, rich enough? Does it matter? HELL YEAH IT DOES! So after years of obsessing over my ass, crying over boys and banishing carbs I decided to give myself a break and get on with being happy. This is my secret guide to a less tortured life.

1. The ex. Remain perfectly calm when you see him,even smile and ask him how he's doing. If you're finding it difficult to play nice (believe me I know it's hard) then imagine the various ways in which you could kill him (my favourite is an American history X biting the pavement style execution) whilst you discuss how well you're doing. Crying and acting like a demented crack-head will not remind him of the amazing girl he is missing. Breaking up is sad but it's a great time for reinvention and focusing on your talents so don't waste it nibbling on Ben & Jerry's. (Unless Ben and Jerry happen to be stunning models...mmmm giggety)

2. Your fat thighs. Moaning about this does not burn calories. Take immediate action and put on a pair of stilettos, stat! You'll look taller and thinner and tone your thighs as you go about your daily routine. Let's be honest, we're all happy being slimmer so don't buy into to this big is beautiful and I'm really happy shit. Save the lies for Jeremy Kyle. Cut 300 calories from your diet and exercise during your lunch break. The pounds will drop off quickly with minimal effort and the effect on your confidence is incredible. Have you noticed how your skinny friends always give you highly calorific gifts on your birthday? The sabotaging bitches! Send them pork scratchings as a thank you...when you leave the room, trust me, then will eat it. They get fatter, you get thinner. Win.

3. I HATE MY JOB!! This is a serious affliction and I'm sure no one is immune to the Monday morning dread. Take some time to think about what you really want from life. What makes you happy? You spend so much of your life at work so if you hate it do something about it before you turn suicidal. Make a plan. Think of all the little steps you need to take to make your dream a reality. What's holding you back? It won't be easy at the start but think about the big picture, struggle now and be happy later or have an unhappy but easier time now. As for the fitties out there... you know how to get to the top anyways
;-)Yes, it's unfair but it's life.

4. Am I pretty enough? No? Are you wearing MAC? No? Well there you go then.

Make the best of yourself. You only have one life to live so don't save the Victoria Secret lingerie for a special occasion. Breathing is a special occasion. Put it on now. Doesn't that feel sexy? Good. Put on your favourite scent, spend an extra 5 minutes on your face and wear a smile. If you look great you feel great. Simple, shallow truth.

XxX

Hidden depth?

When men talk to me all I seem to hear is blah, blah, vacuous and blah. From bankers to lawyers, when faced with an attractive woman all eloquence seems to go out of the window. Some men even act foolish to the point where you want to call their parents up just to tut down the phone. I don't care if you saved a life with your bare hands today, keep them off my ass!

With highly educated men who are prized for their intellect I am disappointed to find that universally, the sought after trophy wife sits very well on the mantelpiece with the MBA ACA PhD...

At first you love the attention, to be the pretty thing and object of desire. When I say at first... I mean when you're 17 and it's all exciting and new. Give it a couple of years and you start seeing the dull reality of it all. The world is full of beautiful faces and pussyfat-trolls have easy access to Maybelline! You realise that outer beauty fades and that any relationship based on appearance fizzles out pretty quickly when you're knee deep in baby shiz and tripping over your tits. (So I hear...)

With this in mind, any serious commitment becomes epically scary. What happens when you're older, fatter and grey? Do you get traded in for a younger model? Do you sit around looking at each other in disgust wishing you had someone interesting to talk to? What REALLY scares me about this question is... what happens if I wake up next to an old, fat, wrinkled, hairy, smelly old bastard. Yes my friends...I too am a shallow and hypocritical monster and I am petrified of it!

I loathe worship of the superficial. But, BUT I do have a strong preference for a certain type of man. Though to distinguish myself from the shallow I like to refer to this as a set of standards befitting to an entrepreneurial goddess who takes meticulous care over her shrine, subjects and manifestations. Translated into bollocks non grata: I'm a smart up-start who takes very good care of herself and I expect you to be the same.

To be shallow, in part, is simple human nature. We all want the best for ourselves and the future lives we'll create. If that means coming together (ahem) to conceive 6foot tall, Abercrombie modelling astrophysicists then hooray for evolution. Just put some thought into it. None of this marks out of ten nonsense that seeks to gratify women by aesthetic value alone. This is particularly amusing when you think of who is holding the score cards. How many 5's do you know who insist on having a so called 10's? The system works both ways and we are tallying up your rating too! At the end of the day, we are all pretty similar in wants, needs and desires. We all love the pretty! All I ask is that you use that gorgeous mind of yours and try and make it a little less obvious boys ;-)

Only the shallow know themselves. Oscar Wilde
XxX

Mr Perfect.

In order to get to my ideal, I must first warn you about the types of unsuitable men who seem to be in frightful abundance.

1. The wasteman. This man calls the guy behind the counter at 'The Chicken Cottage', boss. This is because, being unemployed, he does not know the correct usage of the word. He spends his days delighting the passengers on London transport with his MC-ing skills but can't be assed to sing his own kid/s to sleep. He approaches you on the bus (normally eating chicken & chips) by asking 'What you saying B? You gotta man? Child please, I noticed you didn't touch your oyster card on the reader as you got on the bendy. If you can't afford to take yourself from A to B then don't expect to C me.

2. The bully. This man will tell you the sky is green, not because he thinks it is but because he expects you to believe everything he says without question. He will use emotional blackmail, public humiliation, physical and mental abuse to achieve this. If you were the one who was wronged and end up tearfully apologising to the wrong doer, get out of there A.S.A.P!

3. The egocentric. The world revolves around this charmer. His constant need for attention is draining and often leads him to seek affection from other women. He is deeply insecure, self obsessed and a complete bore. He usually spends hours in the gym and may take steroids to build up those guns. Darling, your body is getting bigger but your manhood has shrunk, jog on.

4. The stray. You are gay, don't fight it. Stop wearing my French knickers, you are stretching them.

5. The cretin. The troll that won't take no for an answer. Some women are worn down by all the constant flattery and awkward offers of dates. Don't give into this pity peddler. When you refuse his advances for the 15th time, he'll spread a rumour that you are a lesbian. Lay off the tuna sarnies at lunchtime, you'll only fuel the rumour.

6. Peter Pan. You are a 50, I am half your age... the answer is obviously no. And the skinny jeans. Stop it.

7. The double dipper. Ashley Cole, Tiger Woods, John Terry, Eddie Murphy, Jude Law.... enough said.

There is a special type of man known as 'The Boris Becker', but this deserves it's own special blog...

Now the mythical beast I like to call Mr Perfect is defined as thus: Simple, (not mentally) ambitious, funny, honest, loving, (nothing like numbers 1-7) loyal and intelligent. How can such a short and uncomplicated list feel like an impossible ask? Is the answer to find a man for each of these qualities? Nice...but impractical. I like to think that we all possess these qualities in varying measures making Mr Perfect a little more human. Just be real, don't settle for anyone who doesn't treat you like a princess and don't make the mistake of assuming outer beauty reflects inner...

Lots of love,

Ms Perfect. XxX

Facebook is full of sexual predators...

...as well as sexual prey and it can be a very dangerous place to loiter.

We have somehow managed to remove the 'I wonder what so-and-so looks like now and is he single?' because it's so easy to find out. One little click and you are presented with a small selection of carefully selected, taken from the most flattering angle, helped by the seductive lighting of a swish bar, uber-gorgeous photos (from 2006).

So you add-reminisce- flirt and the 'fun' begins. Here is where the danger lies or perhaps lays is more apt... This is the dotting the i's and crossing the t's of modern dating. No stone or pretty boy left unturned, no old flame left unburnt.

It seems like everyone is at it or has tried it so I must ask this question. Why? Why are we hiding behind the safety of cool online persona's? Why are we reincarnating crushes that have disappeared from our lives for some reason and should probably stay in the sanctity of infallible daydream?

And then I thought a little more... What are the alternatives? What happened to random chance meetings (with sane, good-looking, intelligent and employed men)? Where has all the spontaneity, fireworks and epic romances vanished to?

In an era where people rarely have time for a leisurely lunch and in an age group too young and beautiful for online dating it seems that F-Booking is the way forward. Texting is the new love letter and posting amusing youtube clips on each others walls is the new mix-tape. And why the hell not? Just remember one thing: The same rules apply! (See previous post) and the boy you went out with in sixth form is probably not as perfect as your hazy sepia toned memory. Do it anyway.... it's fun.

But have a look at this article before you do. http://http//www.telegraph.co.uk/technology/facebook/7508945/Facebook-linked-to-rise-in-syphilis.html

Play safe XxX

Don't hate the player, be the player.

I like to keep things simple but alas, simplicity in the world of dating seems to have died like my appreciation for Eddie Murphy. This is because somewhere in our grey matter we have decided to over analyse, over complicate and over compensate.

When you find yourself crying on your girlfriends' shoulder relaying the beautiful night you spent with this months 'the one' and your despair about him being scared of commitment despite the fact that he thinks 'You're wonderful', remember one thing. He doesn't. If he did he would be with you. You see how clear things become when you remove the bullshit? You like a guy and you want to be with him? Yes? Well it works the same way for men too. The difference is men play the field, this is something women should do too. The more you explore the more you understand how the game works and of course you're less likely to cling desperately to the first man you 'connect' with. Cringe.

Now I'm not promoting 'ho'ishness at all. Just because a man buys you dinner does not mean you pay him back by tasting the cotton from his Calvin's. Your company is worth every penny of that lobster and Champagne meal and don't forget it. By dating lots of men you get a clearer idea of what you like, you spot the losers quicker and you have a ball on the path to love. There you go. Simplicity restored.

(Just remember to change your number when you get engaged...) Xxx