About

Everybody wants to meet “the one.” It is the single greatest goal in life of unattached women everywhere. We will go the edge of the earth and even the Internet to find him. He’s the guy who always compliments you on your fat days and who never ever takes your special ice cream because he knows how much it means to you. He’ll rub your feet after a long day at work, but stop before it becomes creepy and fetish-like because he knows how wierded out you get when people touch your toes. He’ll try to be nice to you when your PMS levels are turned to EXTREME: PROCEED WITH CAUTION AND UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES ATTEMPT TO INTITIATE SEX. But most of all, he tells you, always and often, that he loves you, just the way you are. Anybody flashing back to Mark Darcy and Bridget Jones? Guilty. But just where is he? Well that is a question no one woman can answer. Of course you can hear all sorts of romantic sludge about that girl who met her soul mate as she was buying lunch.
Their hands touched over the sliced meats. She said, “ I like ham better than salami.” He replied with “ I don’t mind either way.”
Bam, love, babies, marriage blah blah blah. But what about those of us who prefer chicken, or even worse, bringing our own lunch to work? Where is our delicious delicatessen to sweep us off our comfortable work shoe heeled feet?
Is there no hope for us? Do we just give up and cry into a failed attempt at lasagne whilst mopping melted cheese off our face? I say no ladies. I say it’s time for us to take a stand. Men are turning into us. They’re shy, fashionably dressed and ready to play hard to get. So it’s time for us to do a little cross dressing of our own. I’m not saying throw on your stubbies, wife beater and double pluggas , (Although I must say when done right can look rather appealing) I’m saying it’s time for some mental readjustment. Who says we can’t go up to that hot guy in the gelato shop and tell him that his shirt is the same colour as our underwear? Or that his strawberry shake is the best we’ve ever tasted whilst attempting to deep throat a straw. We can and we will. Maybe not to that extreme, but hey pick up lines were invented for a reason were they not? I’ll let you in on some of my favourites later on, just to spice things up a little.

However, just because times are changing doesn’t make it any easier to approach the male species. In fact, in cavemen days a woman could simply strut up to said caveman, (Strutting dates very far back by the way, just in case you didn’t know.) thrust her breasts in his face, wait a bit, and then saunter back to her lady cave. Sure she’d spend a couple of minutes waiting, maybe move around her Justin Bieber posters so they would make her room really pop, but usually her chosen caveman would like what he saw, adjust his loincloth for good measure and charge into that cave and have her, Bieber and all.
Of course, years later the breast thrust is still a very popular move amongst the more well endowed ladies, and can be used to great effect when ordering drinks (So I’m told.) Unfortunately, as a modest B cup, you have to get so low to the bar that the bar tender has to lift your tongue just to clean it down.
But for the ladies like me who, as my own mother told me, are no oil paintings, and have just our wit and audacity to get by on, how do we compete with the sexies, the slutties and the double D’s?
Unfortunately that is another question I can’t answer. I know what your thinking, “Why did I bother reading this blog? This woman knows nothing!” And on that point you would be right. I may know nothing, but I have experienced oh so much more than you can imagine. I have been stood up, dressed up, stood on, fallen out and stood out on many many occasions. So how can I help you? I can tell you exactly what NOT to do. Think of it as a sort of how to lose a guy in ten days sort of thing, without Mathew or Kate, or the storyline, or where it’s set. Ok scrap that.

Don’t think at all, just read. I will take you through internet dating, double dating, blind dating, speed dating, picking up at clubs, picking up at vets (Not very successful I can tell you) Dinner dates, drinks, sexy time, and the oh so horrible it’s not you it’s me speech. The exciting thing for you is, as I’m writing this blog of mine I am researching and dating the whole way, meaning more experiences and more for you to laugh, cringe and awww your way through. I hope my horrific tales will teach you a thing or two about men, or at the very least, a thing or two about putting one word in front of another to form a sentence.