The Rules of a Singleton.

There’s nothing worse than walking along the street and seeing couples holding hands, when you’ve recently gone through a break up.

I’m sure each and every girl, (and maybe even guy) hopes that the couple in question don’t see where they’re going amongst all the lingering eye contact or wet-kissing, and instead just walk into a tree. That would teach them for torturing the new Singletons of this world, by rubbing their deep affection for each other in our faces!

It’s like every little thing now only exists to emphasise this painful new status we’ve incurred. There are no more romantic meals, and instead questionable looks or even winks from male waiters, when you eat out with your best girl friend. It never seemed to be the case that restaurants were only for the loved-up – yet somehow now you realise the unwritten law is just that.

So the new love of our life becomes the film channels and wherever sells Ben and Jerry’s at a discount price, since another unwritten law is that Singletons are meant to comfort eat their way into a coma; or at least until they have a mild case of diabetes.

Furthermore this rulebook implies that Singletons have to experience the ‘third wheel’ situation (Who would want to miss out on that ey?). It is unknown to the friends in question that your sitting there twiddling your thumbs, so you don’t text your ex asking if they miss you… and then regretting it about 10 minutes later when you see them across the bar, stuck by the face to another girl.

The only good thing about rules is that they are made to be broken. So grab your ‘galpal’, head for the nearest Pizza Hut, and order yourself a ‘Hot Cookie Dough Desert’. Perhaps even wink at the waiter – because men will be men, plus who ever liked going by the rules anyway?

Been in this situation like this? Let me know and comment below :)

The 21st Century Fairytale.

I hate typical sayings such as ‘there's more fish in the sea’ and ‘Mr Right will come along when you least expect it’ because I’m really not expecting him to arrive any time soon – therefore where is he?

I know that it’s unrealistic to expect Jude Law to knock on my door at three in the morning, drunk beyond belief and asking for a place to stay - one, because I’m not Cameron Diaz, and two, because I don’t live in Surrey.  But it has got to be said that films do give me false hope that my love life will be a fairytale, and I now refuse to give in to anything less  - as unrealistic as this may sound.

From a young age I have had an understanding that a prince was going to canter into my life on a white horse, and kiss me whilst I’m sleeping - this much I know is definitely fairytale. However, I would now quite happily settle for a man to walk (as I have a phobia of animals anyways) into my life, and take me out on a date. This 21^st Century fairytale is much more feasible – though unfortunately this also remains only a fairytale in my mind.

Through the relationships I have been in, I’ve not once been taken out on a true ‘first date’ – where both parties get to know each other on a relaxed common ground. The closest I’ve had to this was a meal with my ex to try and salvage our relationship. Not exactly the situation I was looking for.

So until this first date appears, I will take Miss Diaz’s advice and drink my amaretto and coke, (because I don’t like wine) and sing ‘Mr Brightside’ as loud as I can - enjoying myself whilst waiting for the doorbell to ring. After all, the Pizza Delivery man is on his way, and if he looks anything like Jude Law, he’s not going to know what’s hit him tonight.