Depreciation

As aformentioned one of the things that hasn't changed over the last year is my state of singledom- something I hadn't really thought of as an issue for me until my new workmate pointed out that there is something amiss with my attitude... to me.

One of the things I neglected to refer to in my previous post was the appearance of a dashing young legal eagle at the party. I've known of Colin Darcy for some time through friends but never really taken note.

However on Saturday it was like seeing him anew. He was cute, funny and an amusing enough dancer to catch my eye.

We chatted and danced and spent the evening having a really good time.

But for some reason l didn't think he'd be interested so I left without a kiss or a number that night.

Richard, my new work colleague - who is also my new partner in crime due to a shared adoration of Blackadder and apple pie - was driving us to work courtesy of our car-sharing deal and setting the world to rights this morning when he remembered to ask about my halloween party experience (the previous morning had been spent discussing the horrific failure of his own relationship).

I explained to him what had happened and he looked at me and laughed.

''Oh Suze, you make me laugh," he said chuckling.

''I'm not being funny but you know you are beautiful right? You're a lovely, brilliant girl - why do you think he wouldn't want you?"

I shrugged and replied: ''Well it's too late now - the party's over. "

"Don't be daft Suze." he said sagely.

''Just call your friends and ask them to pass your number on - it's not rocket science. This guy actually sounds like he's not the usual brickie you seem to go for and l think he's more you. Go on take a punt. You're worth it."

And with those words I realised how over many months of singledom I had managed somehow to depreciate my own value in the dating world.

I'd failed to see it and predictably it took a man to use his blunt talent to point it out.

So I've taken the punt -I'll let you know if I win.

Suze x

Return... One year on

To be in the position of now, looking back over a year is bizarre.

I'm most of the way into a brand new career - probably the wildest career anyone have predicted for me - and have new friends, new distractions and a new attitude to life

I'm still single but not overly concerned - l still get the dates..

Portia remains a confident mum to Bob but has been tarnished by life and has retreated back into her shell and avoids any social life despite my best efforts.

Simon on the other hand has become increasingly social - having split from his girlfriend. But, being Simon, he was not alone for long

When Grace fell into his life, not long after the split, Simon was a mess - more lost than I had ever seen him before. I'd heard he had moved on but I'd started my new job and didn't really know anything about it - until yesterday.

I was at a halloween party with my friend Lou, dressed in an appropriately ghoulish fashion, and he was there with Grace. Both drunk and both drunk on each other. Totally and utterly falling down in love with each other. I spotted it and smiled and wondered if even they knew.

Vampire Simon came over and talked later in the evening.

''That's my girlfriend Grace," he said, slurring ever so slightly

I smiled at him and replied: "She's the one isn't she Simon?"

He smiled back: "I think you might be right Suze"

Then Grace, in the form of a ghostly bride, came over, smiled and kissed Simon - before they both smiled at me and danced off among the ghouls, ghosts and monsters.

Had Simon's split happened a year ago I might have hoped to be in there myself - but it's been a funny old year- and I've learnt a lot. First and foremost I now know - it's not enough to want something - you have to be wanted too.

Suze x

Philandering man (and why every woman should have one as a friend)

EVER since I managed to get over my slight infatuation I’ve really got to know a lot more about Simon: The Man.

The first things is realising that, by his own anecdotal evidence, is that Simon is a bit of a tart who works his way through women a bit like most men get through socks.

He really falls into the male stereotype – those that can, do – and exploits his charm and humour to tame women into his arms. And he carries a philosophy that a long as he doesn’t get caught out – by his girlfriend – that no harm means no foul.

Another, which probably explains the first point, is that Simon is a man who truly loves women. By no means do I suggest that Simon is a man who falls in love easily– I think such a thing is akin to a blue moon – but a man who appreciates women in the same way that others might savour fine wine or a Cuban cigar.

A good example of this is the story Simon told us in the pub on a Friday after work. And is best told in the words of Simon (in response to the question“flippin’ heck Simon why is your hair so short?) which were:

“Well I went into the hairdressers and there was his big (suggestive hand movements, fag in hand, around his chest area) Sicilian woman, and every time she did the top and front of my hair she kept pushing up against me.”

At his point Simon mimes his head being pushed forward by giant maternal mammaries, peeking up with the cheekiest of cheeky smiles.

“Anyway,” he said again miming the lolling head, again with the grin beneath. “When she asked me if it was short enough all I could say was ‘shorter please’.”

And he finished with a knowing chuckle.

From any other man this might seem pervy. But everyone around the table knows about the nature of Simon, his one-sidedly open relationship and his honest but cheeky Carry On Camping attitude to the world so it’s ok – we all laugh. On him it’s acceptable.

The third thing you should know is that Simon knows how to compliment a woman – in a way that can really make a woman feel a million dollars.

He always pulls off a compliment with Pearl, the boss’s secretary a wife of 25 years more used to being ignored by men - managing to pick out the thing she has clearly taken the most time and effort over and making her giggle like a teenager when he mentions it.

Even with me, girl who worries about the size of her larger than hoped butt, he manages to make me feel hot - by raising his eyebrows and grinning in his saucy but cheeky way when he sees me on my way to riding in my jodhpurs.

It makes me smile – not because I want him, I don’t any more–but more because I’ve been appreciated by a connoisseur.

The philandering man.

Too dangerously non-committal to take as a lover – but this animal can be a great friend who will always make you feel good.

You’re safe as long as you remember not to cross the line…

Suze x

Kirsty Gallacher's fit sister

SOMETIMES I wonder what makes people come to my blog.

Fortunately for those who arrive here by way of Google I have the advantage that my blog counter picks up what led them here.

And they fall, primarily, into three sections: Pervy straight boys looking for something that they really won't find on my blog (ladys sixpack, skinny wrists turn off, kirsty gallagher fit sister(for note boys it's Gallacher and I believe her sister is called Joanne) and skimpy tees plus suze - but not womble porn!)

Randoms who are looking for something specific and/or a bit technical (simon suze,..remaining hair and pull it back into a high ponytail, instant adoring boyfriend(although I brought that on myself...), inkblot funny answers(my fault also) and salon utility belt.

And finally the ones which give me hope that by writing I'm managing to be part of a new movement of romantically cynical optimism, for men and women, which may start to sweep the world:

Cynical hope

Too cynical for weddings

Shrewd women

What guys think romantically

Wanting something but trying to avoid

Romantically holding hands

Singledom ring

Marriage cynical

For her price is worth far beyond rubies proverbs

Cynical optimism

Where did men go?

Epiphanic realisation

Signs of romantically interest

Romantically asking her out

And finally thanks to the person who put in -Romantically cynical

If you're one of these people who have come here because you're looking for more and have hope -whether male or female, straight or gay or bi, old or young, married or single - please leave a comment and share with me what brought you here - I'll find out from blog counter anyway - but I'd rather hear it from you,

Much love

Suze x

Ps Pervy boys i hope the above pic suffices - even if it isn't Kirsty Gallacher's fit sister...

Drag queens - the best of women and men?

I love the fact that I live in a world where drag queens exist.

They are completely unlinke any other group of people on the planet, that combines some of the most exaggerated elements of each side of the gender chasm - which they straddle, gracefully, in ridiculously high heels.

I have to say that I encounter them less frequently than I would like because, despite their generally extrovert nature, they remain a closetted part of society which only seems to uncloak itself at certain times and in certain places and rarely in my poor grey midlands town.

I also delight in challenging people's prejudices, which is why when my friend Sam and I hit the town in London one weekend, I almost shrieked with joy when the bouncer outside a hidden away bar/club said: "You do realise ladies that it's tranny night don't you?"

Sam is a funny (peculiar not ha ha) girl - she complains constantly if you let her and smiles even when she's miserable in perfect make-up - a perfect tranny fan in the making you would have thought, but no.

Which really is why I took so much pleasure, as I saw her nose wrinkle in disdain, in dragging her in.

And I'm glad I did because, after getting over the initial horror of sharing the toilets with men and mid-transsexuals, Sam loved it (even though later she would tell her mother in a sneering fashion "well it was an experience...").

I on the other hand chatted with all the girls - fascinated with their make-up tricks, accessories and custom-made shoes.

One of the more stunning ones, with a blonde bob and the most amazing breasts ever seen on a man, turned to me and gave me some advice I'll never forget.

"Why do you wear jeans honey? Because your legs are too big? Dear they'll never look any smaller in those horrendous jeans..."

Anywho as I chatted I started to wonder about the nature of drag queens, cross dressers and transsexuals. Are these colourful birds, with their exotoic plumage, the pinnacle of humanity?

With their (largely) fabulous dress sense, their entirely male lack of self-concious self deprication, and their female gentleness - are these members of a third sex the ideal mix of the best of everything?

I mean they carry themselves with no hang-ups, no need for explanation and have an eye for detail which makes them aesthetically perfect.They are perfection in every sense surely?

But then I wondered- if they have no hang-ups - why do we not see all these incandescent creatures in the day?

As I reapplied my lipstick in the toilets and grumbled at the effect in the mirror I realised that a tranny was doing the exact same thing right by me. There was also another drag queen crying in a toilet cubicle and another next to the dryer talking to her lesbian friend about how awful "Duchess" looked in her new plunge dress.

That was when the feeling of slight disappointment curled into my stomach.

Despite all appearances drag queens et al are only human - with the same frailties, viciousness and flaws - they just look better, gosh darnit.

Suze x

The all new, all singing, all dancing...men embargo!

Ta-da!

I've absolutely finally had it - and now I can officially say that I've had enough at dealing with men and all the s*&% that somehow comes along with it.

The whole Davy trifle put me off a bit - too much bother - it really is. I'm also fed up with a "relationship guru" (male) who keeps filling my inbox with rubbish that says I shouldn't expect a man to change. Instead, apparently, I should change!

With that in mind I have come to an informed decision...

So here starts the full on, one year, man embargo. I should probably elaborate with specifics though before men - gay, straight and otherwise- start berating me for being prejudiced.

I'm all for male friends, male colleagues and general males about town. But now I am no longer going to expend effort on dating them - to ask me to do otherwise is way too much.

I'm no longer going out and giving out my number to cute guys who make the request, nor will I smile and laugh at pointless jokes in a flirty way.

In point of fact I've even found a place where I can be around men, dance with men and talk to them without them letching - the local gay club. And lesbians are so less pushy and funny instead of sad.

I'm not going to set up bat for the other side - please don't misunderstand me. Men are way too pretty - to look at - but far too much trouble to become entangled with. Which is the other joy of my new favourite nitespot - men with amazing bodies who can dance - look but don't touch, which is absolutely fine with me.

The brave new world starts here...

Suze x

Summer

FOR the frst time it feels like summer.

I've been working but the Easter holiday has all the hallmarks of long sunny days and balmy nights.

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Evenings have been spent chilling with friends with beers and barbecues as mornings make for perfect running conditions.

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My reboot is going well. I'm more capable of deciding, less able to be made a mug of and generally feeling stronger.

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The Davy thing didn't go anywhere and now I've found out a little more I decided he was a chump.

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But no matter. My new plan involves not caring or freting over the course I'm going. I mean I've accepted that when I finally hit my Jane Fonda years I'll probably still be on my own, in terms of a relationship.

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But what life is to be found out there - a whole world of parties, games, friend's I'm yet to meet - if I'm going to be in a couple ever fate will point the way.

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There are some things that you only find when you're not necessarily looking - friends, situations, lovers - and you can never force these things it's just a case of waiting and seeing if it happens.

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Patience - my new by-word....

Suze x

Crufts

IN these days of superficial judgement, where as much emphasis is place on image as personality, I think it is easy enough to compare the dating market to the international dog show Crufts.

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Everyone on the singles scene judges everyone else on the same terms as any dog show - on appearance.I managed to forget that most salient point at the 999 event and now I think I'm having to deal with the consequences.
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I'm not an unpresentable person when I don't make an effort, however the other night I had really not made an effort - ready for a bit of fun then early home - and was just in jeans and vest with hair scraped into a pony tail and the minimum of make-up on.

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Now I'm a little concerned that I may have given the wrong impression to the boy in blue, Davy, that I exchanged numbers with. I'm getting minimum interest - no date as yet - he's too busy.
I'm not used to getting this half-bothered response and I'm begining to think it might be how I presented myself - and I'm certain that it wasn't in my best light.
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So I'm like a bad tempered pomeranian at the moment - I don't like not being able to compete for any reason.
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However I'm optimistic that with the right grooming session I can make sure I'm top dog and get his attention. But after that I'm still deciding whether or not to bite the judge and flounce out of the competition ring with my little nose turned up...

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Suze x

Nutters, part one

ONCE in a lifetime a girl meets that most extraordinary of all men - a man that makes their heart race, turns them to a quivering mess with one look, and send shivers down their spine - a perfect candidate...

...for being stuck in a straight-jacket.

Yes the time has come when we breach the topic of nutters - known outside the UK as psychos, freaks and subject to a restraining order.

Portia, Delphine and I managed to blag our way into a 999 night at our local nitespot the other day with the intent of bagging a firefighter - I mean who hasn't thought seriously about setting up a pitfall trap outside a fire station in a bid to catch a tasty hero-type - and were ready for a night of fun.

And with such hedonistic glee in mind we started working the room.

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Now through my job I deal with a lot of police officers, so I had plenty of people to talk to in a platonic way (with the exception of one - with whom I did the ever-so subtle exchange of phone numbers dance - perhaps I will update you later...). My friend Delphine was in a similar situation and set about bagging the work-mate of one of her pals in blue.

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Portia however had a different tac and within around 15 minutes had managed to corner a 6ft 2in tall Adonis who works in a police force away from our area. They were getting on like a house on fire and, after not so much time had elapsed, ended in a hot embrace.

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Now Portia is a lady and manage to entangle herself from Adonis for long enough to arrive home respectably alone.

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However the next day she found herself exchanging texts with Adonis with increasing frequency asking her fo a date. Well, Portia was free that night so agreed to meet up.

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The next day Portia was bouncing around with all the days of spring. I looked at her and knew instantly.

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"So you got some then?" I said with a raised eyebrow.

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She had indeed, she told me, but was now rather worried as Adonis had started asking her when he could meet her son Bob and whether she had told Bob's dad tim about him.

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She also divulged that she had found out that Adonis had had the name of the last girl he dated put on his arm in a huge tattoo, he was not yet divorced and was generally showing signs of being the guy who falls in love too fast.

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Now the reason I have labelled this post Nutters , part one, is that there are too many nutters to cover in one post so this only deals with the guy swho FILTF - here on referred to as filfs.

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A filf can be identified relatively easily:

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1. High frequency of calls and text messages from the off

2. Antecedent examples of too many over-heated relationships

3. Still in touch with highly aggressive ex-girlfriends

4. Likely to have past history of irrational relationship behaviour - eg moving in with someone within weeks of meeting

5. Will ask commitment from you within the first three dates

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I'm not really sure how you can avoid them though because, behaviour apart, they are entirely indistinguishable from normal people.

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But as you can see it is this kind of behaviour that marks out filfs as bona fide nutters. And also, worringly, leaning towards more typically female behaviour. However this often expands and, depending on the behaviour of the person at the centre of their affection, can either be entirely dangerous or thoroughly pitiful.

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Of course as best friend it is my duty to carefully point this out to Portia and give gentle words of warning, which she admitted did concern her a little.

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But, with mere plans of a bit of out of uniform fun with thin-blue-line totty, she told me: "Oh well - at least when he's stalking me at least he'll be nice to look at..."

Suze x

Pearl (Slight Return)

I was thinking very seriously of quitting my blog as over this month I've been trying not to wallow too much in my own mind (because we all know how dangerous it can be).

But I came online to check my emails for the first time in a bazillion years and found this unmoderated comment waiting for me relating to my "rubies" post from an anonymous reader.

"Came to this site to get this quote to send to a man that doesn't know my worth, but I do. Another quote is don't cast your pearls before swine.

"I am a widow for several years, and my husband before he died told me the only thing I hate leaving in this life is you. Ladies why should I or any other women settle for less than real love. "

It made me think about the power of women - together - and that how by sharing thoughts and feelings we can become better, stronger.

So I'm now determined to continue and hope - if you'll forgive me for the lateness of this epiphany - you will continue to read on and contribute,

Suze x

Lost

I think it's safe to say right now I'm feeling lost.

My inner compass went haywire somewhere in the midst of the Luke thing and since then I don't think it has been working as it should.

At the moment I feel like I'm on autopilot, just functioning, but mostly without feeling. Its like I'm lost in myself and I'm not sure where I need to be looking.

I'm restless because of it. I can't get to sleep at night and I can't wake in the morning.

I think this weekend I'm going to have to give myself a break from all the things I fill my days with to distract myself and embrace it a little.

One of the things I have thought about in the quiet hours late at night is Graham, my first and - I think it is safe to say - only love. He is the only person I refer to on this blog by his real name, because I can't think of him as anyone else.

I know why I think about him - he is the only person I have ever really let in and he is the only person I have ever had to let out. He was the person who saw all my fears and embraced me and heard all my hopes and let me go.

I wish I had never let him go - but I did. All I have now is memory.

But to regret is to move backwards and to do that would drag me further into the mire.

I think what I need to do now is find my compass again, pack away memories back into the past where they belong and move on.

I've given myself enough time to wallow - I need to actively move on, grow stronger and grow better.

Suze x

Where did all the good men go?

At the moment I am quite disillusioned with the world of men.

Portia and I headed to the pub the other night and were chatting to a couple of decent guys, naturellement.

But after a while, as I chatted to one of the guys at the bar, he slid along the bar, which was supporting his right side, and slurred "you're really lovely. Fancy a snog?"

Classy. Naturally unimpressed Portia, who was fending off his inebriated friend who was trying for her number, and I decided to move on.

I'm beginning to wonder now. Is it just me or are all the men out there lacking somewhat?

I think any woman's ideal has to be someone in the line of Jimmy Stewart - a quirkily handsome man, with warmth, a war hero with integrity. A real blokie bloke who isn't ashamed of his family and is genuine to boot.

Try typing in "Jimmy Stewart" and "scandal" into google - all you get is "The scandal of Stewart's life is the absence of scandal" and other flattering things.

Then try "Brad Pitt" and "scandal" or "Tom Cruise". See what I mean?

Where have all the good guys gone? Surely there must be at least a few modern day Jimmy Stewarts out there? Sadly there seems to be little evidence of them.

Is it too much to ask for - a man who wants to lasso the moon for you?

Suze x

The joys of internet dating (and why I'll never do it again)

In an attempt to shift my relationship (or lack of therein) existential funk I confess I tried internet dating.

I logged onto one of the sites that popped up on my search engine, signed up and logged on to chat.

Almost from the start I found it easy - the anonymity was liberating, the capacity to talk to people online then and there refreshing and the fact you can see a full and frank profile (and picture) of the individual you're talking to gave me a sense of security.

One guy I stated talking to seemed great. There was a lot in his profile - Bobo1981 - which marked him out as a good guy, caring and interesting.

We started chatting online and really got on, finding so much in common and really getting on like a house on fire.

It made me wonder - could I introduce a guy I met off the internet to my friends - I mean where is the stigma in this?

Surely in this modern age the Internet is just what the bar and nightclub has always been - but instead of drunken lust, which sees beer glasses turning any man under 30 who isn't too much of a prat into an Adonis - and deafening music which means you don't hear what a fool your Adonis truly is, you have sober, intelligent communication with the ability to exit at the touch of a button.

No more drunken gropes, no leery lurching towards you for a kiss - and with the ultimate benefit of being able to know more about a person before you commit to a face to face.

I was beginning to think that the Internet was the future of dating when something flashed up on the IM from Bobo.

"Do u like cum"

I was stunned. Usually in relationships questions of such a nature don't come until at last the third or fourth carnal unions. I was floored. I didn't realise that the anonymity would work against me.

I typed "I don't think I'm the kind of girl you're looking for." to which I got a reply of "Ok".

Ok? It was like, by being in an almost different reality, the sexual etiquette rule book went out of the window.

I know that men see things differently, but at least in real life they play by the rules. And you generally can weed out the freaks, perverts and weirdos using your instincts when you are face to face - something you can't do with the false sense of security you get from anonymity.

I decided then and there that Internet dating was not for me and took my profile off the site. I want to know what I'm dealing with both physically and mentally, equipped with a sense of reality, before I have to deal with the word "cum" in serious conversation - unless it's in discussions about Black Country glam rock group Slade...

Suze x

Patience

I am in a foul mood today.

And I think I have for some weeks.

I’m genuinely cross about being the only single in my group of work friends. I can’t stand being the only one any more. Being third-wheel-Suze is pissing me off something chronic.

As previously discussed I’m not interested in defining myself with another person nor am I desperate to be wed or get sprogged up.

But my loneliness, particularly in these days of bad weather and snow, is now palpable.

I find it tough to see Lucie and Sebastian sharing a lassi after a red-faced Lucy has burnt her mouth out on a fiery curry, it hurts to see Paul and Isabelle rowing over petty mishaps and couples holding hands in the street just make me feel bitter.

It would be nice to be able to call someone when you see something that tickles you – when you see a three foot snow-rendering of a man’s genitalia like I did today – or have someone to share time with, cuddle up to for warmth or just even be quiet with.

The craving is a bit like a craving for drugs. The urge can sometimes take over, almost to the point of having an almost physical hold on you.

The other night the loneliness pushed me to the edge and I rang Luke, just to have a bit of banter. The opiate type effects of sharing lasted for a short while, then I found myself craving more.

I don’t know what to do. I’ve lost all my patience.

Suze x

Candyfloss

Last night as Portia and I went once more into the breech - aka the local generic dodgy nightclub - I had an odd encounter in the toilets.



A woman in her mid 40s stood next to me at the mirror and turned to me as I reapplied my lipstick.

"I wish my hair was glossy like yours, mine just looks like candy floss and I can't do a thing with it," she said fingering her curly flyaway blonde locks.

We started chatting about different hair care products and as we did the details of why she, a once happy mother of three children, was once again thrown into the hedonistic misery of the 40 somethings scene that thrives inside the particular club we were in.

She did have it all, the happy and warm life that many of us dream of in the concept of matrimony. She had clearly once been a beauty, with amber eyes and high cheekbones, but had clearly been putting her family and hubby first for many years and had neglected herself.

Then one day, about six months ago, her husband walked out and, not without insulting her appearance, personality and general being, had crushed her world.

This woman's husband had not just abandoned her - her stole something from her. Her family, her life, her self and worse still her sense of hope.

But she was here, in this awful meat market, trying. Wearing the going out clothes she used to wear for family functions on a frame that was almost three stone lighter through the grief of a break-up. But she was doing that thing that marks out survivors from those who fall at the wayside.

I turned to her and said: "You know what you should do. Go to the hairdressers, go find yourself a new look to mark the new single you, buy some hair serum and find yourself again.

"You are beautiful, I mean look at your divine cheekbones."

Candyfloss was lost somewhere between bashful blushing and tears. Clearly it had been so long since someone had called her beautiful.

I smiled at her and said "good luck" before returning to the dancefloor to rejoin Portia in time for my favourite dancing song (Queen's Don't Stop Me Now).

I'd like to pay tribute to Candyfloss and all women who go on, rebuild and thrive in the absence of hope, the absence of that which they have grown to know and rely on and above all in the absence of a man.

And I'd also call for you all to help the Candyflosses of this world - because they are everywhere looking for a glimmer of hope - just by being a warm reality check that preserves their dignity and helps them move on.



Suze x

Friendship

When life seems like the darkest and dimmest it can get, it is good to know that friends can dig you out with the smallest of gestures, whether it be a hug or a conversation about getting little shark fins to wear on your head to literally go sharking in.

I'd just like to pay tribute to my good friend Portia, who despite it all is a source of hope for me and a glimmer of joy in the greyness of life.

Regular service will hopefully resume today or tomorrow - next post soon I promise,

Suze x

Celebrating singledom

Weddings. A joyous occasion or a chance for your smug mate to rub your nose in her apparent happiness?

I'm of the feeling that most marriage events fall by a ratio of 50 per cent at either side of the fence. Some lucky people, dammit, are lucky enough to marry for love and they therefore engage in and take part in their nuptials in honest and warm way that god intended.

Some, including my mother's "friend" (perhaps rather frienemy) Auntie Jenny, marry for sheer smugness. The woman, being of unattractive face and mind and unusually perturbing dimensions of body and arrogance, insisted on a full kit and caboodle white (hah!) wedding, with full lengthy church ceremony, over-expensive and plush reception, obligatory Caribbean fantasy honeymoon and vile groom.

Needless to say this was not a marriage of love it was a marriage of convenience (she rich mean cow, he poor, vain and infidelous) and therefore lasted about as long as his patience (a miserably amusing four months).

I'm thinking that really Auntie Jenny would have been much happier if, instead of dreaming about a fantasy white wedding, she had concentrated on celebrating herself - not celebrating who she could ensnare.

My new workmate Eleanor, who recently split from her long term-boyfriend, and I discussed this today as we derisively snorted at ads in the local paper for a wedding fayre.

"Maybe we should organise a 'single and fabulous' show," she mused. "It would be much more interesting, and there would be pulling potential."

"You know," I replied. "You could be on to something there - we could organise it somewhere phenomenally decadent - like Mustique - no smug couples allowed. Exhibits could include non-wedding "I'm single and amazing" gowns, venues for "career success" celebrations and confectioners offering "I refuse to have a wedding" cakes."

You see that's the thing. There's no celebration for those of us unlucky enough to have not found genuine, warm love.

We're even singled out for pity parties - you know the ones "Poor you. Don't worry you'll find someone soon" accompanied by a chorus of "he's out there" (one I find particularly offensive because, really he might not be) as if being single makes you inadequate, less than a person.

It's written that some of us will be eternally alone on the relationship front - that could be my fate - but why should I mourn that? Yes having a partner is wonderful - and I am honestly happy for all of you who have found one - but there is a whole world of other experience and emotion out there.

Some of us may choose careers, vocations or friends instead - and we shouldn't have to feel bad for that and we shouldn't feel forced into bad relationships to be considered real people.

So from now I'm starting to plan my non-wedding celebration day - aka my "I'm 26 and not afraid birthday party".

I may even treat myself to a "my life is plenty engaging" ring too.

Suze x

Diets

Following the triumph of the Chinese buffet date the other night, Tush Push Johnny dropped me an email to tell me about his progress on the Atkins diet.

Johnny told me he'd managed to shift six pounds of the stone he plans to lose before going to a stag weekend in Las Vegas by gorging himself on cheese, bacon and steak.

God knows what the point of imparting that piece of information was. Hardly whispering sweet nothings is it?

Anyhow, having gotten over the initial bepuzzlement the remark had caused me, I replied "good for you" and left it at that.

But it did trigger a thought in my mind about the nature of diets.

It's always the way that on any fad diet you will end up excluding something from your diet. It is usually the thing that you indulged in to get yourself fat in the first place (with the exception of Atkins of course).

And when it, inevitably, comes to a crashing halt the first thing you go for is the one thing that you've been trying to avoid. And it doesn't matter if it's the best quality dish going - you'll eat the cheapest, most god-awful quality version of your craving you can find if necessary.

I took this thought a step further - what if relationships are like diets. When you're in the happy state of being with someone you gorge yourself on love. But often it goes sour and the first thing you do is decide to withdraw it from your emotional diet.

Many months before all the various encounters I chronicle on this blog I thought I'd found a love in Alfie. Alfie was warm, loving and kind at first - a bit chipped from the experiences of his early troubled family life and time in the army - but nevertheless sweet.

But on closer examination and after many months of a relationship I realised he wasn't just chipped, he was broken and there was nothing I could do to fix him.

I think he felt this and so he started making up stories to try and induce my pity and keep me around. But then I caught him out. The love soured and all I could do, in the best interests of both of us, was to just walk away.

In the months after I put myself on a man free diet. But after a while I started to get cravings. I started wanting something more.

Then the Simon infatuation started. It was like dieters who dream about cream cakes, see cream cakes every-where.

Fortunately the cake was outside of my reach - on someone else's plate - and thankfully the craving subsided long enough to allow me to regain my focus, but then random cream cakes started springing up every where to tempt me.

Then the ultimate cream cake turned up - Luke - a cream filled, chocolate covered do-nut with sprinkles. I managed to gorge myself on it for a while, even though it turned out to be a poor quality bun made with faux cream, but then realised it was all gone.

Now I'm back on the diet. Can I have as much success as Johnny? Or will I find the right slice of high-quality chocolate fudge cake that will keep me happy for the rest of my days?

We'll have to see...





Suze x

The inkblot test

Today I took the Inkblot test at the Tickle tests website.

My summary was as follows:

"Your Unconscious Mind Is Most Driven by Love.

"Your instinct to love and be loved is rooted very deeply in your subconscious and affects most of the decisions you make in life – whether you are aware of it or not.

"You inspire people to experience their true feelings of love and act kindly towards others. You also value your personal relationships more than most people. Your unique capacity to love may be greater than those around you, which means you may have more to give in relationships than your friends or romantic partners do.

"Your psyche is very rich; the more you learn about it, the more you will understand who you really are..."

Now that is a good test - explains an awful lot...

Suze x

Normal service resumes

Portia and I have a significant problem.

We're after the same man.

This is an insurmountable problem we feel we can only resolve by calling the Jeremy Kyle Show (a UK equivalent of Jerry Springer - except the aforementioned Mr Kyle is ruder and more opinionated).

Could be a bit of an odd episode though - me on a chair on the left, Portia on the right and a seat with a DVD case in the middle.

Of course I forgot to mention that the man at the centre of the row is the 'Incredible Instant Adoring Boyfriend' DVD that Portia purchased as my Christmas gift.

It's a fascinating DVD which tends to make comic assumptions about women's needs - with the 'Incredible Instant Adoring Boyfriend' telling you things like "You're an amazing driver", "Why bother with a diet, you don't need to, you're amazing! Here have some cake" and finally "Will you marry me" - all in all amusing but quite atrocious.

It got me wondering though how much easier it would be if you could order an instant boyfriend who was on your wavelength from the word "Go".

For those of us who aren't destined to meet a fate-picked soul-mate it would be much easier if we could skip the awkward "feelings" talks, the embarrassment of expressing unrequited emotions and ultimately heartache.

For example if Luke and I could have spoken the same language from the off how much easier would that have been?

I mean neither Portia or I have the time or the energy to try and work out the meaning of men and their thoughts and actions.

P and I were chatting about the concept of the instant boyfriend on the phone as she tried to reduce my hurt over the end of the Luke situation.

It would be so much easier for P had she found out from the beginning that baby Bob's dad Tim was a complete tw*t.

We could both be with our perfect men - hopefully rich, handsome and sensitive in a rugged masculine way - on a desert island somewhere - bliss.

But mid-way through our rose-tinted discussion on the subject Portia said: "It's all right saying this - but just think if I hadn't met Tim I wouldn't have Bob. And Bob's my world."

I reflected on my own past - if I had not met Graham - my first love who I got engaged to and whose heart I broke and who broke mine astronomically in return - I would never have started on my fabulous career - which in turn would've meant I would have never meant P or Paul and Isabelle.

In fact my life would be unrecognisably different.

And in that Portia and I agreed that however tempting the idea of the 'Incredible Instant Adoring Boyfriend', in reality it would take out a huge bit of the fun of the journey.

And in the journey of life we really need the pain because without it the fun of life wouldn't stand out - like light without the dark - and monotonous fun can't be fun at all can it?

Oh and I'm maintaining custody of 'Incredible Instant Adoring Boyfriend' - but Portia will have him every second weekend...

Suze x

Share time...

I thought I'd share this little email note that has been doing the rounds - fabulous!

This is the fairy tale that we should have been reading as little girls!

Once upon a time, in a land far away, a beautiful, independent, self-assured princess happened upon a frog as she sat, contemplating ecological issues on the shores of an unpolluted pond in a verdant meadow near her castle.

A frog hoped into the princess' lap and said:! Elegant Lady, I was once a handsome prince, until an evil witch cast a spell upon me.

One kiss from you, however, and I will turn back into the dapper, young Prince that I am and then, my sweet, we can marry and set up housekeeping in your castle with my mother, where you can satisfy my needs, prepare and serve my meals, clean my clothes, bear my children,
and forever feel grateful and happy doing so.

That night, as the princess dined sumptuously on lightly sautéed frog legs seasoned in a white wine and onion cream sauce, she chuckled and thought to herself:

I DON'T F***ING THINK SO!!!!!

Share with all the princesses you know! It's sure to brighten their day!

Suze x

The Conversation

To tie up loose ends on the whole Luke matter.

Now we're just mates. He couldn't see my worth.

As my wise and kind friend and mentor Lisa said: "His loss. He'll regret it in time".

I'm hurt, but I'm moving on already.

That's all!

Suze x

Must try harder

First impressions are important.

So why do men, or more precisely Tush Push Johnny (Ref post Guys and Dolls in December), think that a Chinese buffet restaurant is adequate substitute for proper good Chinese which requires a reservation?

Don't get me wrong - I love buffet restaurants for lunch time value - but they are no substitute for the real deal you were promised for a first date.

On first dates guys remember:

1. Deliver what you promise

2. Buffet = cheap (especially when - like I did in this instance - the girl offers to pay half)

One word - outraged. That's all.

Suze x

Answering really hard questions...

...or perhaps not. I was interviewed by Joe Blogs - an interesting experience. The blog is quite amusing and well worth a nosy....

http://mrjoeblogs.blogspot.com/2007/01/joe-blogs-interview-on-blogspot-44.html

In denial or misinterpreted?

ISN'T at least part of the worth of a woman rooted in the person she decides to be with?


Isn't it, in fact, part of the worth of anyone to some extent?


Whilst replying to the comments on the last post I found myself a bit indignant about two of the posts - nevertheless from worthy and honest contributors - but they provoked a reaction.

As usual it triggered me into mulling mode and I did think about the comments which roughly said that I seemed to be putting my worth into a man - or indeed the man I was with.

In my defence I know I have walked away from Luke because I don't feel valued. But I know my worth - and it has never been because I have a man - I am proud of my career and my friends and the full and colourful world I have built for myself.

Now I know that these comments are honest opinions, meant with warmth, but they are just opinions. Yes they are based on the information I have put out there and I respect them in that and I have the utmost respect for the women who wrote them.

But they are only based on a narrow range of information and, although this is the information I choose to define myself by on my blog, it isn't all of me.

Thank you you guys for your comments - I do take them on board and think on - but I'm also an argumentative witch with a capital B and I hope you can forgive me for that.

I'm thinking the worth of a woman isn't in the person she chooses to be with. But it can be an indicator of how much she values herself.





Suze x

Rubies

IN my heart of hearts I can honestly say religion has never really taken in my soul, but I have always held the Bible is a great design for living.

When I was mulling over this post I remembered Proverbs 31:10-31 - Who can find a woman of worth? for her price is far above rubies.

After posting my analysis of gameplaying I decided that really things could not continue as they were with Luke. I suspected he wanted the trappings of a relationship but not the commitment - something that was confirmed when I spoke to him.

"I'm just not in a relationshippy place," he said.

My head nearly exploded off the top of my neck and I nearly screamed: "What the hell does that mean?!?" But I kept my cool and paused.

Then something occurred to me. I wasn't asking for marriage, children or a mortgage and two kids or even love right now - I was just asking for a chance of real intimacy - something I truly deserve. If I admitted now that I was able to settle for anything less I was selling myself short.

I had to ask for what I needed - even though I knew that the price would most probably be that Luke would walk away. The importance wasn't actually getting what I wanted - it was having the dignity and courage to expect it.

So I asked.

"Look," I told him. "I am a good woman, I am strong, determined, intelligent and warm. I know what I deserve and this isn't it. I've told you I like you and I've said what I need, If you can't provide it that's fine. But you only walk away from me once - there are no second chances with me.

"Decide what you want and tell me on Monday. But remember you have one chance, that's it."

So he agreed to go away and think about it. It's Friday now - he has three days 'til Monday.




I aspire to be a woman of worth - I hope I will find that someone who realises my true value.

But I refuse to sell myself for anything less than a price beyond rubies.





Suze x

Question time

Which is better for the soul?
	Love
	Shoes
	Money
	Friendship
	Pets
	Food
	Hope
Free polls from Pollhost.com

What really matters

It's a fact, it doesn't matter who we fall in love with and/or marry, have kids with, plan lives with, we women are more than likely to face the final curtain on our own.

The pre-set best before date for men is generally earlier than it is for us women, so the chance are that if we live to a ripe old age we will be doing it alone.

Well that's not entirely true - well I hope it won't be for me. Because whilst our men of choice pop their clogs and shuffle off the mortal coil our girlies will live on. And I think that is good news (the girly continuance not necessarily the process of being ex-parrots...I mean ex-men).

But really - how bad could that be? I think there could be many worse people to swear at and hold secret whisky drinking parties in the bridge room with than my bestest pals Portia and Isabelle.

In fact Portia and I have already got our orders in for mobility scooters (which baby Bob will in time pay for) and have designed the mobility scooter racetrack...

Seriously though there is an unwritten code between me and my best friends that no man will ever come between us and that friendship comes first - because really that's the best and most reliable thing we have got.

I think it is always important to remember this cruel (or not - open to debate) fact of biology when making the effort to balance out romance and friends. No matter who you are with and no matter how well you think he knows you, he can never know you or help you more than your friends.

Love yourself, love your family, love your friends - then think about loving a man.

Suze x

Gameplaying: Deviant behaviour or necessary evil?

When it comes to the complex relationship issue of gameplaying people hold the most polar of opinions on it in the same way that they do marmite or Angelina Jolie...they either love it or hate it.

On one hand some believe it is manipulative and deviant. On the other there is the camp that believes it is a necessary tool to force the hand of a party who would otherwise keep their cards close to their chests. Most men (from an exhaustive poll of about seven) believe it forms the main body of evidence in the case of blokes V evil women...

Usually I fall into the first - I'm not manipulative and think it is quite odd when people resort to relationship chess.

But now I'm in a bit of a pickle. A grand six weeks into the whole Luke phase I find myself in a quandary over the whole gameplaying issue.

The main motivators are firstly that I find Luke inscrutable, his emotions seem to lie behind a locked door, and secondly that I feel like I'm doing all the running.

Both these things ring alarm bells to me because I've never been out with a person who behaves like this - usually I seem to get swept off my feet by a wild romantic - who usually ends up wanting me to take charge in the relationship (the antithesis of the partnership I'd prefer).

It makes me think that he isn't really into me at all.

But because I think I've done all the running I'm not sure if there has been room for him to manoeuvre and express how he thinks in actions.

Now comes the game plan...

I'd already planned to go away sans Luke this weekend and we have no plans at the end of this week so I've decided to maintain radio silence and gauge the response.

Thing is - I don't know if this is a game I can win.

Suze x

Optimism

Over the last year I think I have about as much romantic success as a hedghog trying to make a two mile an hour dash across the motorway.


I'm not complaining- the lack of a man in my life has meant I've had the time and the money to do dozens of things I probably would not have done had I been shacked up with some long-time amour.


In fact I think I could have been spoilt by the luxury of solitude. I quite like my own company, or existing within a circle of friends as a lone sentient being.

Of course there are things that you miss - being close to a warm body in the dark winter nights and silly conversations you have with a person you are that close to.

But I've managed without for the best part of twelve months - managing to dodge the rogue affections of Posh Phil, Tory Boy Tony (another story for another time) and other miscreants posing as respectable members of society.

And even the whole Simon "thing" that triggered this blog (go back to my first posts for the full and frank on that whole saga) was always something remote. I think now it may have been my brain's way of trying to exercise relationshippy emotions without compimising my freedom.

I was getting to the point where I felt I couldn't really be bothered to reach out to people, and, being more scared of being hurt or committing to the wrong man than dying alone. "Down with love" was becoming a motto - the risks were too high and I was ready to pull my heart permanently off the table and stick to friendships and family.

Now though, as I decided to end the whole unofficial men embargo and try to be a bit more open to feeling by trying to not make a fool of myself with a cute young thing called Luke, I find myself doing the crazy.

I was reluctant at first - handsome devil Luke may be but I am what I am (scared) - but after a while, after he suggested we just take it slow, I find myself thinking about him alll the time.

In a rash (read drunk) moment I even sent him a text in the middle of the night to say "Hey, I think I'm really into you".

Luke didn't reply.

Crazy head went on. Spoke to him about it when he rang. Long conversation with him saying - "I'm not sure. It's all moving too fast".

I apologised. And felt like shit. Stupid shit. I'm not normally one to do such stuff - usually I'm the one batting off nutty persons and I never apologise. But this time I felt like a fool and thought I'd managed to scare him off for good.

But he didn't run. He still calls and texts and wants to be around me.

Now I'm trying to reign in the crazy and just be me. Being busy leading my own life and letting him come to me.

I'm trying to stay sensible and just let it flow and even if I manage to frighten the blighter off irreversibly, it makes me a little more optimistic - about me.

Suze x