Tag Archives: single life

The single persons catchphrase

‘Don’t worry, you will meet someone when you least expect it’

Oh how I had missed this phrase after years of being in a relationship. Luckily for me, I am having it thrown at me from around every corner now I am single but I have more than had my fill. The idea of this sentence irritates me. Like every single guy/girl is sat at home every night worrying about being alone forever, or expecting to meet someone and constantly looking at every bloke they talk to for even a hint of attraction.

It always starts the same:

-Any men on the scene?

-Hows the dating going?

-Got yourself a fella yet?

Followed by my standard ‘go-to’ response of ‘no thank god’. I really need a new comeback to these questions..

People don’t seem to realise that a woman can actually choose to be single and like it. I have never been the type of person to need someone to ‘complete’ me. I just don’t understand these people who have a new love of their life every week, or that collect engagement rings or the ones who feel that they need to announce their partner as ‘me werld’ on facebook one minute and a total twat the next, usually for doing something stupid like forgetting to do the dishes.

I am certainly not a ‘bitter man hater’ either. I don’t feel the need to constantly slag men off or go on an ‘all men are dickheads’ rant on facebook. I am totally choosing to be single. I have always been an independent little sausage; taking myself off to the lakes or somewhere quiet when I need to recharge my batteries, going somewhere new alone or just chilling my beans at home. I am now literally dating myself which isn’t always easy, I stubborn as hell and borderline annoying 98% of the time which makes the arguments hard work!!

Another thing I love as much as the above phrase is when people seem to think that you want to be set up with every single man within a 5 mile radius or that if you talk to a guy or make eye contact with him you must be having sex with them on the sly. My favourite attempt at a ‘set up’ was..

‘Ooh I saw you talking to (insert ANY male name here), is there something going on? What about them? Well why don’t you just have some fun with him instead?’

Followed by me shouting ‘Erm, I can sort myself out thanks’ a bit too loudly. Not the best thing to shout in a hospital environment!

So I am not worried, as the phrase states, I know I will meet the perfect guy at the right time. I won’t be settling for any more idiots that asks me out, i have deleted myself off every dating app and i certainly wont go for the one that asked me ‘do you want to be my fuck buddy?’.. I said no of course, who asks such a question?! I am more than happy being on my own, having my own little retro sanctuary, being totally stress free and not being moaned at for leaving Kirkby grips spread around the house (note to guys: this is how women mark their territory).

I am Bridget Jones and living the dream..Now I’m off to eat my body weight in cake and have a hormonal breakdown because i can never have Ryan Gosling in my life..but i do love The Notebook.

A classic case of ‘no spark’

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It is 12.00am on a Friday morning. I have not long got home from another first date. It appears I still haven’t learnt my lesson, that I attract guys from the strange walks of life. Unfortunately I cannot blame Tinder for this one, I totally blame Bumble and my own lack of judgement.

So, spending the night swiping through the app I looked at this guy’s profile. Instead of pictures of him in Thailand on some exotic animal, wrestling a tiger or skiing, there was a fancy dress picture of him in a dress. Fair play I thought, it was certainly different and quite cute, he also described himself as the real Ross Gellar. So as per bumble rules, I had to message within 24hrs. I sent a message complimenting on his ability to pull off a dress, wig and knee high socks. After a few messages we were getting on really well, seemed to have the same humour and both liked similar music, always a winner. After a few days chatting we swapped numbers and arranged a date, to some quirky bar with my kind of music. I wasn’t really nervous or bothered about this one, I thought of it as just going out with a mate after how well we had gotten on. I didn’t even have an advance outfit planned or hair & make up, not like me at all. I always have a date outfit planned at least 3 days in advance in my head!

I turned up early for once; he was sat waiting with a White Russian (WTF milk on a night out?!) for himself and a standard southern comfort for me. First impressions, not at all what I would normally go for at all but he came across alright. He looked a lot different from his pictures and had the strangest accent that took me by surprise, almost as much as how he pronounced the word ‘practice’ as ‘pratice’. We had a nice chat but it quickly became apparent that it was all business. I didn’t fancy him at all, no little sparks, no laughs and there weren’t enough pints in the word that would tempt me to a sleepover! He pointed out that he had small hands for some reason, then I was mesmerized, they made mine look massive, I refrained from a previous small hand joke, totally inappropriate.

I made the excuse that I wanted to beat the late night scramble for a taxi and said I was leaving. He offered me money for my cab, which I didn’t take and walked me to the taxi rank. I gave him a hug, skilfully swerved the attempt at a kiss and gave the ‘thanks for a nice night and it was nice to meet you’ brush off line, which I have learnt is code for ‘thanks but no thanks’. This did not work, as his parting line as i closed the taxi door happy i didn’t get asked for a second date, was ‘I will throw you a text and we will sort something out’. I clearly need to come up with a more inventive/brutal way to end dates successfully. i could use a line used on me the other week..’well, i’m sure i will speak to you again at some point’. a personal favorite brush off, straight to the point, leaving no room for hope.

I am a firm believer in personality, laughter and butterflies; I’m not one to go for looks. Looks fade over time, so if you’re with some absolute wanker who is hot as hell, eventually when their looks fade away, you will be left with just an absolute wanker.

With that said, they should ideally be a two pint minimum on the sleepover scale.