I woke up to a startling realisation… I’m old.

I don’t think I help myself by having a 21 year old boyfriend. Sigh!

It’s just I’m going through an insecure phase and despite being the lowest weight of my adult life, having good hair and a London wardrobe in South Africa, I’m pretty depro.

I can’t help but compare myself to all the young beautiful woman I see out. I just don’t know how to make myself feel better. It’s especially hard when your boyfriend is not comfortable complimenting.

Got job, got car, got boyfriend, got enough money to buy milk. Life should be good


I just feel like moving back to SA has put my back emotionally five years. I feel the same insecurity I did in high school but none of the hope that its only one more year til I go to uni.

I’m sure it’ll get better once I settle down more but it’s been a year since I moved back and I’m very unsure it was the right decision.

I was so independent and self assured there and I’ve regressed in SA.

I think it’s the whole caring about someone more than yourself. I was very selfish there. I was there for friends but didn’t really open up my heart to anyone else.

When you put your heart in someone else’s hands you risk a lot and I think thats the problem.

I’ve been burned more than a few times by men and now I feel like they do this because I’m not good enough. I kinda know it’s not true but the flirting with other girls is really getting me down.

I don’t like that I leave a club after a big fight in tears and I wake up the next day to boyfriends 6 new gorgeous facebook friends. All girls at the club. I don’t get to ask because that would imply I don’t trust but theres a level of respect that says before the person you love asks why not volunteer the information.


Insecurity is like an illness without cure

No Sex In The Champagne Room Or At Least My Room…

I recently had the opportunity to reconnect with an ex and I did a little happy dance at the thought of breaking the seal on months of abstinence.

I wined him and dined with a finesse most of our previous dates had lacked and we ended up at my house.

I wasn’t leaving anything up to chance and slipped on my sexy underwear and hoped for the best.

We were kissing and I could see the goal posts in the distance when he pulled away and said ‘I think we should stop. I need to get back to where I was emotionally when we dated…It’ll be more special then’  I gasped !

I initially couldn’t even verbally respond, I just glanced around the room looking for an imaginary audience who would be as shocked as I was. I mean really, I was practically naked, ready for action and he’s says no…lets wait.

I reacted like the nice girl I am and said it was all right and when he asked to hold me I suffered in silence. He finally fell asleep and I escaped the prison of his arms, rolled into a cold spot and pondered my life.

My irritation at the turn of events was baffling, especially since a guy acting put out by me saying we should wait would result in a few choice words and a kick out the door.

When did I become the guy in the relationship? Have I watched too much Sex and The City ? What happened?

A few weeks have passed now and I’m actually pretty glad he was being a wet blanket and I wonder if a few guys feel that way… a foot stamping tantrum and you realise you’ve been saved from a potentially unsatisfying experience.

I’ve never had ex- sex and perhaps I was saved by a metrosexual.

Long live men in silk scarves x

Double-Edged Sword Of Honesty

I just can’t make up my mind which is worse, men who don’t say they have a girlfriend when they do or men who slip that they have a girlfriend into conversations when the information is not at all relevant.

Most recently I was at an interview with this mid twenties guy who was looking for a video editor with mad skills to freelance. Naturally I applied 🙂 and went for the interview with the same hopeful yearning as a promiscuous girl waiting for the results of her chlamydia test to come back negative.

We were getting on like a house on fire and connecting on a friend level it usually takes a few beers to reach. No sexual tension from me because, really, I’m in an interview and this man while attractive in his own way is not my bag. I’m sure you’ll remember I like my men tall with good hair and a love of black and white mammals.

Anyway, we’re talking about my showreel and laughing about my appreciation for split screens when he suddenly says ‘My girlfriend’s coming in later’. I’m like ‘ok?’ , so I try and make his comment a little less random ‘does she like split screens?’ He replies something along the lines of ‘We’ve been seeing each other for about a year now , we met at blah blah blah so I should know but I don’t’. Again I’m stumped and suddenly feel like a third mystery person has entered the interview and is sitting to my left, right where his eyes keep fearfully darting.

Clearly he found my friendly interview persona flirtatious and was trying to let me know that he wasn’t on the market but what he didn’t realise was, I have no idea how to flirt and I’m always friendly (except when hungry)  so his comments flustered me and I ended up making a weird situation weirder, to the power of surreal.

Stupidly I decided to let him know I verbally acknowledged his not so subtle mention of his girlfriend and say that she sounded great because she loved him despite his love of U2 (which he’d mentioned earlier).

Little did I know this would open the flood gates, the rest of the interview was spent talking about his girlfriend in relation to jobs mentioned on my CV. It was so weird that when I left I didn’t even ask when I’d find out about the job I just shook his hand and walked away in a daze.

I want to know what his girlfriend did to make him the most loyal man in the world.

I suspect she tells him how many peas he’s allowed to eat with his dinner and while I appreciated his loyalty and I realise I’ve blogged about men keeping their girlfriends secret so my inner hypocrite is coming out, I just don’t think job interviews are a regular place to man hunt so men should feel a hand on the thigh before they start acting like you’re trying to make them your babies daddy.

Shallow…not really but maybe in my fantasies

So I’m on the 149  listening to alittle Bronski Beat minding my own business when I catch eyes with an adorable man, all hot and lumberjack like.

I’m thinking YAH if we date we’d live near each other. I’m noticing he has pretty eyes and he made the effort to smile at me even though I’ve transitioned from curvy to chubby over the holiday season. I’m fantasizing we’d walk through Clissold Park holding hands on summer days. I’m  day dreaming of us laying in bed arguing over whether we should watch Arrested Development or Modern Family.

I’ve basically laid out our lives together for the next 6 months when I notice his hands.

His tiny little hands.

It’s like my mind won’t let me be happy even in my fantasies. I’m obviously not going to interact with this man as that would require moving my fat ass so why couldn’t I just continue to throw flirty smiles and ignore his smaller than average hands.

I tried to rationalize the whole situation with some good old fashioned logic, I’m not perfect so why should he be but really he should be!  I spent 2o minutes on the bus home imagining our lives together, if I wanted imperfection I’d actually talk to him and ruin the fantasy immediately.

I feel bad for being shallow but I’d like to defend myself. I’m only shallow in my fantasies.

In real life I’m picky about personalities and mostly I date quirky looking guys. I’m all for personality and cute smiles. I hate muscular bodies as they’re hard and I bruise like a peach. I must admit I have a thing for good hair and big noses but they have to come with an amazing personality and a love of Mushroom Dr Oetker Ristorante pizza.

If I knew a guy and liked him I’d find his small hands endearing and kiss them constantly but on the bus home I like to relax so if a guy goes out of his way to catch my eye he’d better have average sized hands or be wearing gloves because I don’t need to stress of self hating because of my shallow fantasies.

What is the 20-something version of a Cougar?

It’s been brought to my attention that recently all my boyfriends/boy crushes have been quite literally…boys.

I’m not talking illegal, obviously, but definitely two or three years younger than me. I’m hoping it’s a phase since I seem to be aging and they are not, as a case in point, I found out last weekend that a manchild I dated last year had lied about his age and is only now 21.

Does it make me a bad person that what upset me the most was the fact he’s stayed the same age while I have gotten a year older and a year closer to needing plastic surgery?

I shouldn’t whine since it’s a two way street and these young-ins are attracted to me but I worry I’m going to become addicted to how complimentary young men are and how refreshing it is to meet a man who isn’t hung up on his ex-girlfriend.

I did try and date a 30 year old guy but he was way too serious and made me feel like at any moment he’d drop down on one knee. I had a panic attack when I went to his house and he’d bought wine that cost over 10 quid. I broke up with him pretty soon after that.

I’m definately a commitment phobe

All this typing has made me ponder my future love life – can you be a commitment phobe while looking for love or is that like being a marine biologist and afraid of the ocean.

I likeem new. Not like you’


Single living – a 20th century disease?

I’ve been doing a little soul searching (not alot – I’m scared what I’ll find) and I’ve discovered I’m being a slave to society. I’ve been convinced, despite my whining, I’m happy being single but if I don’t view the single life as a disease then why am I looking for a cure?

The answer is that I’m being influenced by society. Those bastards with their gladiator sandals and harem pants are making me feel like the monkey from Outbreak, although I’m not sure if that monkey got set up on as many blind dates as me.

I’m the girl people think of when their newly single guy friend is feeling down about the quality girls left on the shelf. It could be worse I could be the girl they don’t mention for fear of sending their friend into a deep depression, but still they should be affirming the joys of being single not trying to ‘fix’ the situation. Seeing people happy and partner free must seem awful to some couples, I’m sure they’re worried it’s contagious.

Most of my friends are currently single or at least pretending they are but since I do socialize outside my core group occasionally there is no escaping interactions with people who say  ‘I can’t believe a nice girl like you is single’ well believe it and be jealous !

I get to star fish in bed, eat in bed, hog the covers and snore to my hearts content. Of course these are the only things that happen in my bed but lets not get caught up in the details.

What being single needs is a PR compaign. We need to change the view that singles are losers and/or promiscuous STD riddled weirdos. I’m thinking posters, badges and maybe a tshirt that says ‘I put out and all I got was this lousy tshirt’.

Sex without love is an empty experience, but as empty experiences go, it’s one of the best. ~ Woody Allen

Hand Holding Is For Losers

If a couple are walking slowly on a narrow side walk holding hands and have the misfortune to be in front of me, they might catch a brick to the head.

I don’t even think I could call this a pet peeve as it would diminish the mental torment it causes me. I may have to call it a peeve which sounds less cute and more urinary related but still I may just go with it to get my point across.

What are these people thinking?! Are they trying to inspire envy or jealousy by proclaiming their couple status.

Wow I’m so jealous you can’t move  towards a destination without clutching  the hand of your loved one like a life line to happiness.

As a rule people who refuse to let go of their held hands also walk slowly like they’re flipping the middle finger at single people for both their inability to find a mate and then at the fast pace they chose to live life at. I like having a life that requires me to move at London pace even when going to the corner shop.

Damn those affectionate bastards for making people walk around them and their sweaty joined hands.

Don’t they have places to be?