Why is dating / trying to date so bloody hard?!? It’s honestly like a full time job that could give you RSS in the process! My views on dating and romance have always been very fairy-tale like, girl meets boy, girl falls in love, girl and boy live happily ever after. Well let me tell you, life is not Disney and parents should tell their little girls (and boys) this when they’re growing up. You won’t find seven little men Hi Ho-ing to help you find your prince (unless perhaps you work in some stables with a bunch of jockeys), you won’t first meet your prince being woken up by him with a kiss (if you are woken up by a complete stranger in this way I suggest testing out all known Body Combat moves, screaming loudly and calling the police) nor will Mr Charming track you down should you lose a shoe on an alcohol fuelled evening. And finally any street rats you come across are likely to remain rats and won’t become princes who ride magic carpets and Mrs Pots is unlikely to prettify any Beasts out there either.

I honestly don’t think I’m asking for the earth, when I’d simply like to find a tall, dark, handsome, chances are foreign (it’s my thing – moth to a flame and all) blokie who has a slight sarcastic arrogance about him, but will treat me like a princess (and have good genes, thinking ahead!)  Oh and a more recent addition to my list of requirements is voice – He needs to have a dreamy voice and accent, please.  It seems apparent following recent dates that my ‘Tall’ requirement is unlikely to be achieved as men these days appear to have stopped growing around the age of 15 and at a push have a height of 5ft8″!  I’m not the tallest of girls, 5ft7″ but I do like to don a sassy pair of heels (although following a visit to the doctors this week and being advised I have the onset of osteoarthritis in my knees flats are becoming my new best friend) and therefore ideally I’d like to meet someone who is at least 5ft9″ plus.

Having said this the last date I went on was perfect (and he’s probably 5ft8/9″ – it’s hard to gage when you’re similar heights I think).  I didn’t once compare him to SkoA, he was the perfect gentleman, he travelled to my town (he lives in East London) and it was a really lovely evening.  But since it went well and I quite like him it’s almost a dead cert that it won’t go any further as the pattern seemingly goes like this – I like them, they don’t like me and then vice versa, the ones I’ve written off adore me (god knows why – complete mystery!)  So as it stands I’m very much on the shelf, a dusty shelf pushed right to the back, likely to go out of date!

So April sucked, I hated that month and I had a feeling that I was going to hate August too.  I’d prepared myself for an answer to a question, I asked the question last month, holding my breath in the process, which I felt I’d been doing since August last year.  I got the answer, ‘No, not yet, not for a while yet’  I felt like I could breathe again; not fully, not full deep breathes but a little, just enough to get some oxygen into my lungs and give me a little more life.  Fast forward to this week and I find out the answer to my question wasn’t the ‘not for a while yet’ and in fact as I had thought whilst I’d held my breath before, the answer is actually ‘Yes!  Right now!’  It now feels like a bullet has been shot through my heart for a third time.  To quote Swifty “Band aids don’t fix bullet holes” so what the hell will?!?!  I’m hoping that I’ll find the answer with my trusty one again, off again love – Gym!  Avoiding games, will also undoubtedly help my heart recover.  A player will tell you not to hate the player, hate the game, and well that’s been my problem; I don’t hate the player (not even now) it’s the game I’m not a fan of.  That’s a bit of a lie, the game is lots of fun initially, it’s just when you start losing it slowly becomes shit and you get burnt!  Lesson learnt – Don’t play with fire (and don’t fall, head must at all times rule heart!!)

My on off love affair with the gym and fitness continues as usual.  I’ve recently started a diet plan (fallen off the wagon a little the past week or so, aching heart and buggered knees are to blame!) and Phil has given me some workouts to follow alongside my weekly PT sessions.  I know I say this in pretty much every post, but it is all about ‘Mission Love Me’.  I’m certain that once I conquer this sodding self-loathing and hatred towards myself and my body that I’ll be happy and in turn good things (beings) will come my way – Fingers and toes crossed.  I have also been told that I need to fish in different ponds!  My response to this remark (from a ‘happily’ married man) was “You find and tell me what pond I should fish in and I shall fish it!”  It’s highly unlikely he’ll be able to find me a pond as I am almost certain the majority are dried up! I will of course be the first to take that back should a recommend pond produce a tall, dark, handsome prince; but lets face it, going on past fishing excursions it’s more likely to produce frogs and toads!

This time last year I was in Italy and the year before that I was sunning myself in Sharm El Sheikh; today I’m stuck at work and it’s grey, wet and miserable (very reflective of my mood) outside.  Get me on a plane – I desperately need some R&R!!  My sister and I did have a lovely little visit to the beach last week.  We went ‘Out Out!’ to see Micky Flangan at the BIC in Bournemouth on his ‘An’ Another Fing’ Tour – It was HILARIOUS!!!  The two of us haven’t laughed that much in a long time and teamed with a stroll along the beach, sea air and a Margarita in Chiquitos it was just what the doctor order and laughter is definitely a marvellous drug.

So this is basically where I’m at right now: holey damaged heart, knackered knees, drinking a hideous concoction (it’s certainly not GIN!) in the mornings as per Phil and the diet, trying to again increase my gym visits and get some sass back!  I’m definitely still a work in progress, but i’m getting there, slowly.

L x