Not all men are bastards, some of them are dead

Now, I don't want to be one of those whining women who complains about how all men are bastards whilst scoffing on a two kilogram bar of Cadbury's, crying into a tub of Ben & Jerry's and stroking one of my eighteen cats, but really, I'm beginning to think they might be. Very little evidence to the contrary. 


Take for example my lovely friend Francis. Francis, like most of us, is looking for that special someone. As a gay man, he tends to meet a lot of not so special someones. But then don't we all? 
So Francis is in his local gym. In the sauna. I know, cliche, but bear with me... There is a fella that Francis has seen around  the gym quite a bit, there has been lingering eye contact and what us lesser fools would call a spark. 
So, back to the 'ol sauna. Francis, notices said gentleman smile and move a little closer. There is conversation, laughter, mucho macho flirting and knee touching. 


Yum, right? 


Right. Until sauna boy casually mentions that he has a boyfriend. You can imagine the disappointment poor Francis felt. As would we all. When he leaves, Sauna Slut follows him to apologise with drivel like 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lead you on, I should have said something earlier' 


Sorry don't cut it buster.Yes you should have said something earlier and no, you have no excuse for behaving like a total twat. 


Why would someone do that? 


Before we answer that, let us join Heather. 


Heather is a friend of mine who is beautiful. Not only did she fall out of the beautiful tree and hit every branch on the way down. She snapped the branches off and keeps them at home for putting on make up. So, Heather is out with a group of friends and some new acquaintances and there is one guy in particular who is quite a charmer. Someone that she might not have noticed initially, but this guy has the chat. He is the sort of fella who would make you laugh till your knickers fell off.


This charmer asks my friend for her number. He texts her as soon as she leaves saying how he had a great night and they should do it again sometime. Heather is obviously quite excited by this. She thinks, this could be a good thing. She does some investigation through friends, tell me about this fella, you know in the private investigator way we all do, 'Does he have a job?' 'Where is he from originally?' 'Has he been CRB checked?' Unfortunately, Heather didn't get the answer to any of those questions, as the first thing she was told was that this guy has a long term girlfriend.


Really?!


I know that this isn't an unheard of scenario, we all know tales of this happening. We could all sit around the fireplace and regale each other for hours with wine and cheese and our stories about little shits. As unfortunately these things happen all too often. But seriously, why? What does a guy get out of it? The thrill of the chase? It just doesn't make sense to me. Is it training for when he is single again? Because if his girlfriend has any sense at all she won't be with him a lot longer.


My only solution is this, if a guy asks me for my phone number I'm just going to punch him in the face. I think it's safer to just cut to the chase.

Technoeulogy

So. I have found myself for the last week or so in the barren land of no computer. AND no smart phone. Can you imagine?! No facebook, no twitter, no junk mails to tell me how to elongate my penis in order to make my girlfriend happy. I should have paid attention to these, having now found myself with no girlfriend. And a weirdly long penis.

We have all come to rely on this technology way too much (the Internet - not penis elongating devices). It is so difficult to do minor things, view things online, check times of things, watch mystic cat on youtube and all of the wonderful things that help make our little worlds go round.

What did we used to do before we had this ability? How did we function?! If someone asked the question, 'How long can a caterpillar hold it's breath underwater?' We used to have to wait until the following day, or till Monday if it was the weekend, and pop to our local library to dig out a dusty copy of an encyclopedia in the hopes that we would find the answer. 

We would probably not find the answer. 

It is a stupid question. 

But I bet Google could tell you. 

It is now no longer necessary to hold information in our brains because we are able to find out that information at the touch of a button.

Future generations will have to enter www.whatismyname.com every time someone asks, as they literally do not have the brain capacity to store such trivial information.

I no longer am aware when friends are having birthdays as I don't bother to write down this information. Why would I? When I have the friendly Facebook Butler I like to call FB?

As I am happily reading what nonsense people have been up to, looking at pictures of people on camels and noticing that 'Richard has just fallen over in the street LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :-) ', he wil  clear his throat politely and say -

'Ma'am'

'Yes FB?'

'Were you aware Ma'am, that it is Lady Victoria Rysing's birthday today'

'Gosh Darnit, FB, I was not aware of that, I will leave a little note on her wall that will get lost in amongst all the hundreds of others she will receive. Which, will then, in turn, convince her she is popular as many people have taken the time out of her day to write such notes.'

'Very good Ma'am.'

I am not saying that it is bad that we have reached this stage, for if you think about it many wonderful things have come from it, like being able to order a take away without speaking to a human. It is just weird to realise how much I actually require regular Internet in my life just to function on a basic level.

This past week I have been unable to clean myself, or feed myself and keep ending up in the sea instead of at work.

This doesn't even cover the amount of time we spend Falking (Facebook stalking). I mean what happened to the days when you used to meet someone you liked and you would spend that wonderful exciting time getting to know each other. Your likes, dislikes, how they'll die if they smell honey, you know the usual cute things.

These days you meet someone (and I know I'm not alone here) and instantly add them on Facebook. Then I spend hours scrawling through their profile with a toothcomb (which incidentally should never be used to comb teeth). Driving yourself mental with questions like 'Who is that girl in that photo with her legs around his neck?' 'Why did his status on the 17th October say that he is having a 'great time' does that mean he's a murderer? You know, the usual cute things.

Anyway, I must be off, FB has prepared tonight's Roast Pheasant. 

Give us our day back you bastards

Ah yes. It's that time of year again. The time of year that fills with dread the hearts of every singleton, boyfriend and husband alike.


That day of the year when single folk are scared to leave the house for fear of being bombarded by hoards of couples in every restaurant, cinema and street corner. We are left to peer through the curtains like lepers frightened to catch a glimpse of the pitying looks in our untouchable direction by those who are deeply in love, parading the streets with their flowers and chocolates.


If that wasn't bad enough we are reminded of our singledom for a good solid month approaching V-day. Cards, roses, champagne everywhere. You can't set foot in boots to buy shampoo without being reminded that you will probably die alone by a stupid cartoon cat on a heart shaped card.


And yet, this is not my problem with Valentine's Day. It may not sound like it but I am happy for all of those people who have found each other in this otherwise quite bitter universe.


What I am annoyed about is the fact that it is our bloody day! It isn't intended for couples to get together and make kissy faces at each other, or for boyfriends to get in a sweaty panic as they have to pay £25 for a rose at a petrol station at 7pm on the 13th because they had forgotten all about it. Or even for the girlfriends, to lament that their boyfriend got them sodding chocolates, when they have been together for four years and he knows she's lactose intolerant.


No.


It is for us. It was designed so that we could have a day, above all days of the year, when we could breathe in, man up and say, do you know what? I quite fancy you.


On what other day of the year could you get a card telling you that you had an admirer, signed off with a question mark, and not have to take it to the police as evidence of stalking?


Couples have every other day of the year. They get to spend Christmas together, and birthdays, they get to have the New Year's Eve kiss. 


In the Metro this week thay had a 14 page spread of things to buy your partner. And then a tiny three line article on how to 'survive valentine's' if you are single! You can't just rewrite whole days! You can't just say, right from now on Christmas days will be celebrated by going donkey racing and eating bicycle tyres and wearing underwear on our heads! 


As single people we have to be subjected to PDA's every single day of the year. Well I say we should claim this day back as our own. I say V-day should be declared as a day when all couples have to stay indoors and you are not allowed on the streets unless you are single. And we can have some sort of massive single jubilee street party. With dancing and banners and punch and suchlike.


That's what I think.

Coffee? Or shall we just have sex?

Hello hello to readers both old and new. I hope you've enjoyed reading all the other blogs so far. I know I have. I read over them all as soon as I wake up and once again before bed. To remind myself of how hilarious I am.

It turns out, I'm pretty hilarious. Who knew?

Sooo. I thought it might be time to assess older issues. I have been having some lovely conversations with older people about relationships. It's comforting and a little bit frightening to know that they are just as clueless as we are.

The mother of a friend of mine talked to me about how the most difficult thing about getting older, (getting older mind you, and not relationships- We weren't even discussing relationships), the most difficult thing about getting older is staying true to the sanctity of marriage and keeping everything as exciting as it was in the beginning.

This of course doesn't come as such a surprise. I think most of us expect this. Forever is a long old time. And as we keep being told, nothing lasts forever so why should a relationship be any different.

Things change every day and you can never be sure of what is around the corner, feelings change, situations change, you don't know what you can expect.

But that isn't necessarily a scary thing, isn't it a wonderful thing thinly veiled? Can't we see that as an opportunity to be grateful for what we have now and just enjoy it?

Then there is the other monster. Monotony. That little beasty that wants to get in and remind you of how bored you are and how you may be bored FOREVER. Which, as previously discussed is a long old time.

If you are bored of something however, it is your own fault. If you are drinking tea, day in day out, and you start to think my God I'm bored of this tea, then whose fault is that?! Now of course I am not saying never drink tea again and switch to younger sexier latte, because as we all know, latte may be a hot sexy young thing, but it doesn't relax you in the same way. Sure it keeps you awake for longer but too much of it and you are left feeling the effects. And surely eventually you will be bored of that too. No, I'm saying spice up your tea a bit. Maybe try it with honey, or vanilla milk instead of sugar. Isn't that tea looking a little more ravishing, doesn't it feel like a whole new sexy cup of tea?

I think you know what I'm saying... yum.... tea.

Another conversation I was having was how some people are still as terrified of commitment as they were when they were younger despite having been married or had children.

What is it that people are afraid of? I think I am correct in thinking that this is a feeling that we all have to some extent. What if I've chosen wrongly? What if there is a better one just around the corner? Can I really do this forever?

I think the key to this is remembering that it doesn't have to be forever. I know that we all want to believe we will get married once and when we do it is for keeps. But I think it helps quell the fear if you realise that if it goes pear shaped you don't HAVE to stick around, you won't be stoned to death if you decide to move out. Your two hearts don't ACTUALLY beat as one, so you aren't going to die if you walk away.

Just a thought. Maybe it helps if you think that it may not last forever. It may help you to cling on that little bit harder. Like a leech.

A lot of men have it so much easier than women as they get older. Men seem to get more attractive with age whereas women seem to decrease in beauty. An older gentleman friend of mine was saying how he thinks this is because women have lost their 'spark' not their looks. That beautiful confidence and radiance that flows from them. I think there is a whole lot of truth in this. If you think of Helen Mirren or Judi Dench who are both beautiful older women, they certainly still have a spark. I think too many of us ladies allow our spark to die out too quickly. Or that it is men who have wrong us and kill our spark. Ooooooh philosophical.

So anyway, I'm sure you're wondering about me. How am I coping with this single lifestyle of mine?

Well, it is a lifestyle I have become accustomed to over the last few years. So I've settled in quite well now. I love the fact that I am my own person to come in when I like, go where I like and drop everything to run off to a free cake and beer party without having to consult anyone else. I wish someone would invite me to a free cake and beer party. I get my own double bed and get to watch whatever flm or televisual programme I like.

 I am also loving not playing games. Not wondering when that person will call or why haven't they called. Or maybe my phone isn't working, perhaps I should phone O2 to check to see if there is something wrong with incoming calls, but then he may call while I am doing that..... you know. All that brain melting stuff.

Plus I don't have to do all of the ridiculous grooming that we ladies have to subject ourselves to. Just the basic stuff. I mean seriously ladies, don't worry, I won't give any secrets away, but we put ourselves through a lot of weird crap when you think about it.

But of course I miss the cuddly nights in, the walking through the park holding hands, calling someone to say hi (who isn't my mum), and the ahem....

Soooo. On that note thanks for sticking around through this nonsense. You lovely people.

Not hard though is it? I'm hilarious.

Two's a couple, and they can shove it.

Hello Children.

'What are we going to talk about today Auntie Suzy?'

That's a good question William, let's find out......

I am going to talk about being a lemon. Not the fruit. The outsider.

I have a pet hate, that I am sure (in fact know) I am not alone in. 

Spending time with the dreaded 'couple'.

Now, there is a huge difference between those people who are in a relationship and the 'couple'.

I have many friends who are in relationships who I could spend all the time in the world with. If it's the three of us, it feels like the three of us. There are certain couples I know who make you feel like you are spending time with some form of two headed freak with no interesting conversation. Fun. These people have pet names that they use. ALL THE TIME. They only seem to do everything together. They sit together, fondle each other and only talk about things they have done, are doing or will do together.

They seem to think that the love for each other is so amazing that everyone else will want to hear about it all the time. We do not want to hear about it all the time. We don't even want it sent in a yearly newsletter. Get your hands off each other or get out of my face.

The fact is that with these clingy couples, you are more than happy to spend time with him on his own or her on their own. it's actually quite fun, you have a lovely time. Together it's like they have morphed together and their two brains combined somehow melt into a sort of cheese fondue but with less personality.

What to do? Avoid? Or wait until they are so sick of each other that when you spend time just the three of you they are talking through you?
 

'Suzy, can you tell Neil that if I wanted to hear an annoying grating voice telling me how worthless I am I would call his mother'

'Suzy, would you please tell Kathryn that I have no interest in her dull sarcastic comments and that if she wakes up dead in the middle of the night, it wouldn't have been me that did it, as I am at the back of the queue. Behind everyone she's ever met.'

This generally makes it worth having to go through all the initial lovey dovey stuff I find.

But what about me? What have I been up to?
 

I met a boy. I know. An actual boy. A boy that makes my toes tingle and boobs purr. But don't worry faithful readers, I haven't acted on it. Oh no. In fact the opposite. After a few stumbled, idiotic girly conversations where I couldn't speak in sentences, I bumped into him outside my local large generic food store, wearing a tracksuit, dishevelled hair and no make-up. To top it all off I had been caught in a shower. A very large shower. Making me look a little like the girl from the ring but in an awful tracksuit combo.
 

I saw the fear in his eyes.

We ignored each other.

The steps I take to stay celibate.

A date? I can't I'm afraid. Because I hate you.

Hello Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Groovers and Shakers, Twisters and Makers, Surprisingly Flexible and Firm as a Planks... How are we on this fine day? Don't answer that... It's rhetorical. Idiot.

I am well (I am aware you didn't ask but I went ahead and answered anyway to make up for your rudeness).

I have however just tried to breath using mainly rice. I thought this would be an interesting experiment to try in my 28th year on this earth. The results of which were watery eyes, and a red face. If any of you wish to partake in a similar experiment to see if we get corresponding results, feel free.

Today's subject is a fairly serious one. But don't worry I will throw in a few knock knock jokes to shake things up a bit.

My topic is unrequited love.

This is a pretty painful subject. Regardless of which side of the fence you find yourself on. I for one, am pretty sure that unrequited may well be the only type of love I have experienced (boo hoo

sucks to me tiny violinist sob sob get over it). But I can in no way claim to be an expert in it or how to deal with it.

Recently I had to tell a gentleman that there was no future in us. He has always been a massive flirt, and delights in sending the odd (very odd) inappropriate text. Which is fine. They were quite amusing and I would be able to say 'Hoho! that's just Martin. Oh silly Martin!' Obviously not his real name.Martin is an Old man's name. But recently, after 5 years of this, he started revealing his true feelings and how he genuinely wanted to go out on a date. I am sorry to say that I am not attracted to this man at all. So the answer was no. Also, I feel partly responsible for this, because at no point during these 'ridiculous' (so I thought) texts, did I say- 'Honey, you're lovely and all but you just ain't my bowl of beans' (In case anyone was wondering that was said in my cowgirl voice). So I felt almost as though I had lead this guy to think that I may be interested. But I think that when it comes down to it, you can't be held responsible for other people's feelings. If we spent our entire time trying to second-guess how a person is feeling or holding back in case people get the wrong impression, then we would lead very stilted lives. 

Of course I would also say you can go a bit too far in the other direction by maybe sticking your hands down a man's trousers and thinking ' I'm sure he won't get the wrong impression, he knows we're just friends'

Having frequented the un side of unrequited love I realise too that sometimes you are asking to get hurt. I was involved with a gentleman who was a lovely man. We both agreed and knew from the outset what the relationship was. We were 'lovers' (In case you were wondering this was said in my sort of Mexican/french voice). It wasn't a relationship, we enjoyed each others company and would have fun but without having to answer to each other or anyone else. And yet, I went out of my way to find out about other people he was seeing. I can't explain why. I knew what this was and neither did I have any hope of it becoming anything more. But I had to be alpha female as it were (I know that doesn't work, you snobs). I needed to know that even though he had other women about, I had to the best. It's an odd situation to have found myself in really, jealousy starts like a tiny black dot on the brain and it spreads like branches, until it slowly encompasses you and you start doing things you can't explain, looking for more reasons to be suspicious. In the end it was only to hurt myself. I had no ground to stand on as we had agreed what the relationship was and therefore really, I was the one who was being untrustworthy by being very two faced about the whole thing. I think I am not made out to be a 'lover'.

Now, these are the two sides of unrequited. The yearning and the heartache are incomparable. But I witnessed the most wonderful of phenomenons recently. 

True love.

Having discussed unrequited love, it happens to us all at some point in our lives, in some cases much more than once, so it really makes you appreciate what a rare and incredible thing it is when a person truly loves a person and that person truly loves them back (not a title for a song I don't think)

I went to a wedding recently, I am friends with the bride, so I know all too well how much she loves and worships the man she married. I have spent a little time with the groom but not enough to have the old deep and meaningfuls. He is a lovely guy and I do approve.
It was wonderful though to attend the wedding and see the groom cry. As soon as the bride arrived, and pretty much right through the service. Even in his speech. He was so overwhelmed with happiness. He felt like the luckiest man on the planet and he got us guests to thinking that he probably was too!
 It made me think, if my husband, (whosever that may or may not turn out to be) feels that lucky to be with me on my wedding day, then I would be due for a long happy life.


Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Smee.
Smee who?
Smee! Writing a blog!

Thanks for reading.