But DO desperate times call for desperate measures?

I don’t think it’s that uncommon when you’re dating to think that every date that’s going well is “the one”. I once had a heated debate with a good friend about this very topic. She was free of a six year relationship that she was thrilled to be out of but hadn’t found her new man as fast as she would have hoped. Like many people, she joined Tinder and went on a string of dates. These all turned out to be pretty unsuccessful but what was annoying was that every time it was going well she would proudly boast that this relationship was ‘different than any other’. Having sat through this a few times, and sat equally through them going sour, I had had enough.

One day at a friend’s bbq, my friend was glued to her phone, periodically smiling and giggling at the screen.

“Is that your Tinder friend?” One of my pals asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, “you know, we get on so well. It’s like I’ve never known two people have so much in common like we do. Like, this relationship feels so different to the others.”

I laughed into my drink which bubbled and made everyone look round. My friend asked me what was funny.

“Well,” I decided in a split second I should go for it, “it’s just… Aren’t they all like that?”


“I just feel like you say that about all of them. I mean, yeah, they will feel different because it’s someone different from before.”

My friend didn’t say anything, nor did she mention her Tinder partner again that evening. She couldn’t really argue with me because it was true. She had insisted one of her Tinder dates came to our friend’s wedding after telling us he was something special. Yeah, he was a real piece of work alright. For some reason she had accepted the fact that she, the Queen of selfies, wasn’t allowed to take a photo with him. Apparently he hated it but I say this was so his girlfriend never found out. I picked up the disposable camera on our table and pointed it at them as he frowned and told my friend to tell me he hates it. He was forever not turning up at their dates as well with a flimsy reason and leaving her in town on her own in the evenings.

The final straw came when she snapped and he admitted he’d been a massive dickhead. Her family were throwing a garden party that he said he would attend to. After dropping her off at their home, she went I’m and told her whole family that he’d be a long in a minute after he’d gone home to get changed.

He never returned.

I dunno, he said he had to run an errand or something but that was it for him. I still think his girlfriend had come over!

But that’s what happens when you become, well, desperate. I’m no stranger to it sadly. I was talking to a boy online once and our friendship was dwindling. He had once been calling me every day and texting all the time then he started to move away from me. I’d text him and have to call to get a reply. Previously, he’d been quite romantic but now didn’t seem to say much at all. So, I took a reaaaaally desperate move.

“Can I tell you something?”


“I had a dream that you and I were in a car and we were married.”

“Err, okay?”

“I just… I just really feel like in our previous life we were married.” Narrator: She did not.

“That’s not a dream, that’s like a vision.”


“Erm, okay. Err…”

I don’t know what was going through my mind. I was about thirteen/fourteen at the time and lucky that no one found out about it. I’m sure he probably had a giggle about it with his friends but no one ever said anything – I was lucky! God knows what I was thinking! Why did I think that was such a smooth idea?! Because I was desperate. I can picture him in a restaurant, explaining to his beautiful girlfriend that he’s apparently been married before and her looking concerned before she laughs and looks confused as he finishes the punchline.

Funny really, I can’t imagine being like that now. If anything, I can picture being too defensive now.

It’s the little things we do!



Nappy Nights (and just how awful they are)

Nappy Nights is a term in Britain that describes when a nightclub opens its doors to teenagers to give them a taste of ‘nightlife’. It’s for 14-17 year olds essentially and they are terrible.

I went to one once and never went again.

My friends had all been to a few but for some reason I don’t think I had ever had the courage to ask my parents if I could go. When I did eventually ask, they said they had no problem with it – I was sixteen.

The problem was that my friends had all gotten fed up of them by then. I excitedly asked who was going and I was met with a sea of unenthused faces.

“Come on, guys,” I pleaded. It was no good, they weren’t going. Part of the problem was that people were always talking about how they ‘got off with’ tons of people and my friends were not meeting anymore. How were we supposed to know it was all bullshit?

Desperate, I turned to a boy I liked at the time. We had met a couple of times and gotten along but didn’t really have that much in common. We’ll call him Glynn. Foolishly, we tried to date but he text my friend and asked her to come over and I told him I couldn’t see it working.

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re trying to cheat on me.”

We stayed friends anyway and he asked me if I as going to the next nappy night. I told him I was and asked him if I could go with him as my friends were all bailing which he said I could. Glynn had a lot of idiot friends so I didn’t want to go just with them. I asked the weirdest kid I knew, David (more about David soon), to come along with me. Glynn and David actually knew each other and didn’t really get along so God knows why I even bothered. Stupid really, Glynn’s friends weren’t going either so the three of us were a *ahem* awkward trio.

I’d gotten dressed up in a white denim mini skirt, silver MK1 high heels, and some horrible grey top. I stood in the line and looked as I realised I was overdressed when I saw girls in denim shorts and trainers. The two guys I was with, who weren’t talking to one another, hadn’t even said I looked nice when I had spent so long getting ready. We joined the line and stood awkwardly. David soon realised one of his friends, Desmond, was standing in front. The three of them started talking and I stood like a lemon to the point where Desmond actually thought I was a girl that had come on my own.

“Nah,” said David, “she’s with us.”

“Oh,” Desmond nodded from lack of introduction, “right. Hello.”

“Hey,” I smiled.

“So you boys looking to meet some birds then?” He continued like I wasn’t there.

“Yeah mate.”

“Er,” Glynn hovered for a moment before shyly replying, “yeah.”

“Sick, same here, innit.”

Was I glad he didn’t ask me what I was there for? ‘Yeah mate, I wanna meet boys’. Perhaps my poorly ringletted hair said it all.

I remember Glynn tripped down the stairs on the way down to the main room and I laughed too much in an attempt to be flirty. It hadn’t worked between us but I still really liked him and thought he was really cool. He was a quiet guy who was liked by a lot of people and had a really good sense of humour when he felt like it. We’d shaken off Desmond and now were huddled around one bar stool with our free water. Please Don’t Stop the Music by Rihanna boomed from above as all the confident people grinded on one another on the incredibly tiny dance floor. I stood and tried to yell to Glynn to make conversation but he didn’t really answer, just nodded, even when I didn’t ask a question. David was preoccupied looking for a friend of mine that he had become somewhat obsessed with. This would prove to be a huge burden. Even more so because Glynn also liked her. He looked around manically as he searched for her face in the crowd then demanded we all walked around with him.

“She might not be here yet, David,” I looked to Glynn for backup but he just shrugged. “And we’ll lose our seat anyway.”

“Fuck the seat,” he said irritated, “none of us are even sitting on it.”

“I am.” I planted my rear end awkwardly on the sticky chair and pulled my skirt back down my almost definitely unshaven legs in an uncomfortable display.

“Fuck sake,” David snapped as he stormed off.

I was alone with Glynn. What more romantic situation than trying to make yourself heard over Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie? He stood with his hands planted in his pockets and continued to nod as my voice was lost in Shakira’s vocals. It took a couple of minutes for David to return.

“I don’t think she’s here yet.”


“Theres no signal down here.”

“Yeah,” I sipped my now lukewarm and sickly water, “it’s an underground club, innit.”

“Then we need to go outside.”

“David! We’ve just got here!”

“Come on!”


He downed his water and threw the plastic cup away from him in disgust. I tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled at Glynn who looked bored. David thankfully left to go and get phone signal.

“Shall we dance?” I asked.

“Erm,” he looked at the crammed dance floor, “nah. I don’t like dancing.”

If there is such a thing as Lord of the Dance then I suppose I should thank them for my dancing would’ve been abysmal. I can even see what I would’ve done. I would’ve done that thing that breakdancers do before launching into their moves. That kind of stepping back and forth while loosely crossing their forearms and my body would have been painfully rigid. I sat hunchbacked on my stool and drank my disgusting water to the last drop, pleased when it had finished.

“Oh, I’ve run out if water. I’m just going to go and get some more.”

By the time the conversation between Glynn and I had once again gone cold, and my water lukewarm once again, a huffy David returned like a child who had not long kicked their ball over a fence.

“Her phone’s off.”

“Oh well,” I shrugged.

“Maybe she’s here?” Glynn piped up.

David agreed and started frantically looking through the crowds again. This time he was able to convince us that we should all go on the hunt for her. Leaving Glynn at the dance floor’s edge we pushed through a load of interlocked teens. It was sweaty, slippery and smelt of hot damp. I followed David through several times, each time he insisted I looked a bit harder. Upon the eighth time I threw my hands up and told him to forget it.

“I know she’s in here!” He insisted.

“OK? I’m sure she’ll find you,” I shrugged, feeling a little unconvinced.

“We need to go through again!”

“…Where’s Glynn?”


“Glynn? He’s gone?”

“Dunno, toilets maybe. Come on!” He pulled my arm in an attempt to drag me through the literally tongue tied crowd once more.

“David!” I growled irritated, “stop! I need to find Glynn, at least we know he’s here.”

“He’s there,” he pointed at Glynn standing with some other lads he obviously knew. I gulped, not wanting to approach them as they were all handsome and friends of his that I knew to be quite unkind. I freed my arm from David’s grasp and sighed. This wasn’t fun. David grunted and disappeared through the crowd again. I circled the club like I had somewhere to go but I was wandering without a purpose. Drinking and collecting more water.

I sat down at an empty booth and clicked through my signalless phone. How did people meet people here? No one was even looking at me! I smiled at random people passing but pass is all they did. I hovered over my home number with the idea of going to call my dad, who had been so pleased that his loner daughter was going out meeting people. He had so confidently told me that I’d love it and here I was thinking of calling him just an hour later.

Glynn eventually came apart from his friends and I pounced on him immediately – “oh, fancy bumping into you again” type bump. We kissed awkwardly because aside from dancing there was nothing else to do. I guess I was relieved that I kissed someone but pretty disappointed it was someone whom I’d previously failed a relationship with. I stepped back and smiled with half my mouth as Glynn stood with his hands in his pockets. We were both probably wondering why we had done that and why we were even still here.

I did lose Glynn again after a trip to the toilet. I came back and he was regrouped with his friends who were throwing water at each other (May I remind you I was wearing a white skirt) . I rejoined David who confirmed to me that tonight had been shit without me saying a word. I nodded and told him we should leave, he asked me if I would help him look for my friend again and I politely told him fuck no. We left, hydrated and disappointed.

Glynn and I had an on-off friendlationship although were both awkward enough that it never really materialised into anything sexual. He would invite me over and spend the whole time playing fifa, or a load of his horrible pals would turn up. He wrote a comment on a photo of me to which one of his horrible friends wrote underneath “fuck off, she doesn’t even fucking look like that!”. This was a kid I had always made a point of being very polite to (his dad owned a supercar dealership so I don’t really know what I was expecting). I’ll write mine and Glynn’s weird relationship when I’m less tired.

As for David… Well, like I said, more about David another time but I can tell you he’s currently in prison. No, he didn’t end up with my friend.

Night y’all.


I can’t weight

So, you’ll remember previously that I was elated that my Xmas weight amounted to 11st7 which I’m pleased to report has now dropped to 11st4. I’m just terrified of getting to that point where I step on the scales and go backwards!

I’ve also made the stupid decision to go on the Wii Balance Board and all I can say fuck you, balance board. Fuck. You. It use to have a nice little chart that was as so:

  • Underweight
  • At risk of underweight
  • Ideal
  • At risk of obesity
  • Obese

So, my little Mii is standing there all slender then BLAM! she’s padded out and bursting out her leotard. It read ‘Overweight’ bordering on Obese. I was offended. I didn’t expect Ideal or anything but at least it use to soften the blow with ‘at risk’ which they’ve now ditched. I’ve tucked the stupid balance board neatly behind the sofa.

I asked Boyf if he thinks I look any different and he wasted no time in telling me that he didn’t.


“What! Eurgh, God, you’re annoyed now aren’t you?”


“A bit.”


“It just feels like I’m making a huge effort and no one is noticing! I’ve lost nearly a stone!”

“I live with you so I wouldn’t notice. It’s like when people tell me how big the rats are and I shrug because to me they look the same.”

Well, let me tell you he was quick enough to *notice* that I’d gained weight I can tell you that much.

My mum is a diet perfectionist and frowns whenever I eat something “forbidden” like shredded wheat. Shredded wheat, for god sake! She’s doing amazing though. She will look great by the end of it. Hopefully the same can be said for me soon.

… Shredded wheat!


Two thousand and weighteen.

I’m sorry I’ve not been blogging much. Life has been mad. I ate and drank so much over Christmas it was actually a relief for it to be all over.

Sorry, this won’t be the catch-up blog that I keep promising myself I’ll write.  I’ve started my new job, got gossip about my friends and I’m feeling a little frustrated at a stumped relationship (we’re happy, just…stuck?).

One thing I am passionate about though, is getting my old body back.  When I’m slimmer I am more confident and I want to feel that way again.  I’ve been drinking 2 litres of water and avoiding unnecessary carbohydrates.  Man, I miss carbohydrates.  I eat some, obviously, it’s necessary to do so but it’s tough.  What I wouldn’t do for a big old bowl of rice!  And yes, I know some people will read this and think “rice isn’t the worst!”.  Well, perhaps not, no, but when I lost all that weight before it was by cutting those delicious satisfying carbs out.

After much pressure from my whiz-dieter mother, I weighed myself.  I placed Boyf’s specialist scales (works out BMI, etc.) on the bathroom floor and stripped of my pyjamas.  With a deep breath, I placed two cautious feet on the cold surface and waited while the numbers flickered tauntingly.  Was this going to be me starting from the very beginning again?  Well, to my surprise, no.  Last time I weighed myself I was 11st5lbs.  That was before I “let go” for Christmas.  I shovelled mince pies and Christmas pudding in my mouth and washed it down with brandy butter and a double-borderline-triple vodka and diet coke.  “I’ll start again,” I thought, enjoying delicious farm shop cheese, “new year, new me and all that.”

Well, when I weighed myself for the first time this year I weighted 11st7lbs.  Really?  That’s it?  Okay, maybe some of it had fallen off beforehand but I couldn’t believe it!!!!  It’s really been the boost that I needed.  This can be the year that I can do it.  Plus, my passport photo needs renewing and it would be nice to have one that I actually like (I know this normally is not the case).  I’ll bore you about my passport/airport dramas another time.

The picture at the top is my dinner this evening and I tried to dress it up the best that I can.  It’s got a fat free cream cheese filling and was actually more satisfying that what I thought it would be.

Hope you’re well and your diet is bringing you 2018 joy!

I have a craving for vegetarian sushi… *breathes in* be strong!!!!


What’s on your Christmas list?

Merry 1st December, y’all.

Have you been good this year?

Is Santa going to be bringing you everything you’ve asked for?

Okay, that just sounds really creepy.

Here are some of the things that have made it onto my Christmas list this year:

Cute Brighton Pavilion Cushion

Make Your Own Beer, Wine & Cider Starter Pack (Classy!)

This cute little dream catcher

Guess Who (Because GUESS WHO loves this game?!)

A mini lemon tree

What do you Meme? (I’m still not over the Cards Against Humanity phase)

Bolero bed sheets (Mostly because I hate buying bed sheets, yet I also love them.)


There we have it!

Don’t forget to open your advent calendar.


HORRIBLE BOSSES!!! Arrggghhh!!!

Everything is going swimmingly with regards to my new job after my pre-employment interview today where they copied all of my documents.  The only problem is that they need my TWO previous employers to give references.  One of them is a pharmacist that I use to work for and we are still quite friendly but the other one is a bitter lady who I know doesn’t like giving them.  My heart sank when I saw they wanted her details for my reference.  Even when I worked there I remember telling other people that she doesn’t do them because she doesn’t want to be “liable” (translation:  You’ve left, why would I help you?)
I’m feeling pretty on edge because I’m worried what if it comes between me and my new job?  Part of me feels like I should start applying for other jobs now for when this one falls through because of her!  *Deep calming breaths*

I tried to explain the situation to the lady who was copying my documents but she seemed not to really get what I was trying to say.
“Okay,”  she straightened my documents up in her heavily-tattooed hands, “maybe you can give your previous references a nudge?”
“Sure, one of them won’t be an issue but I know that C isn’t too hot on giving them.”
“Not a problem.  We can always ask the HR department there if they can give it to us.”
“She is the HR department.”
“Maybe someone else can give us the reference?”
“I can very nicely ask one of the doctors,” I replied (which, by the way, would be a fucking nightmare.  As you can imagine, they are incredibly busy and I don’t think they would really consider an two-years-gone employee’s reference to be a real matter of importance), “but I couldn’t make any promises.  Plus, he won’t know the dates or anything.  He won’t have the sickness record either.”
“That’s all we need,” she smiled, “just to make sure that you didn’t book all your time off sick.”

Now I am well and truly stuck.  I just wanna sit down and cry.  Plus they’re asking for some kind of other form from my current manager and neither of us know what they are going on about but all I get from my current manager is “I’m really busy” – this is following the news that we have a CQC inspection coming up, deep joy.

What the hell am I suppose to do?

EDIT: And now they want – as well as the reference forms – my current busy manager and my old manager who hates helping to write SEPARATELY my dates of employment… Grand.