Joy to the world...

Happy Christmas Eve, everyone!


As usual, it's been a while since my last post (new year's resolution - blog more). However, this time there is a very good reason. I've kind of been busy falling in love. Completely unexpected but, at the same time, mind bogglingly brilliant. I'm so happy I feel like I could pop at any moment. So, in the spirit of this magical time of year, a few little letters...


Dear Christmas,
I love you. You are utterly magical and you're better than ever this year. Don't ever change.

Dear waistline,
What can I say? I'm sorry. You're distinctly bigger than you were this time last year and it's all my fault. Don't get used to it though. Come December 27th we're going to sort you out.

Dear Marks & Spencer pork crackling sticks,
You are partially to blame for the above. Don't worry though, I still love you.

Dear love,
Hello. You're back. And bigger than ever before. I'm going to try really hard to not let you go this time.

Dear THE BOOZE,
We're going to be seeing a lot less of each other, come the new year. I'm sorry but the time has come.

Dear 30,
You've been the best year of my life so far and we're only two months in. I can't wait to see what the rest of you has in store for me.

Dear bank account,
I'm sorry I've not been kind to you this year. I like Topshop too much. I promise to try harder next year.

Dear 2011,
You've been a strange year. Possibly the strangest year of my life. The last two months of you have more than made up for any of the bad times though, so thanks for that.

And, finally...

Dear Soldier,
There really aren't enough words to say how happy you've made me. It may have taken eleven years but you were worth the wait.


It's doubtful that I'll be posting tomorrow as I'll hopefully be face down in a trifle come 2pm. So I'd like to take this opportunity to say that I hope you all have completely incredible, wonderful festive times. Eat, drink, dance, love, laugh and be thankful for every little bit of magic in your life.


Merry Christmas xxx

Boys boys boys

I'm fussy.

There, I said it. Fussy beyond belief, particularly when it comes to boys.

A (non exhaustive) list of things that will put me off:

Too tall (I like my men short. Not shorter than me, but short)
Doesn't drive (I judge it, don't know why)
Too scruffy (but also too smart)
Bad kisser (too much tongue in particular. I do not want a wet face, thankyou)
Too keen
Bad shoes
Bad jeans (I'm talking £9 M&S specials)
Not hairy (gorilla legs only, thankyou, and a nice bit of facial scruff)
Too vain (must be able to fester in a festival field for 5 days)
Too quiet (I talk a lot. Must be able to keep up)
No sense of humour (I like to laugh. Must be able to cause said laughter)
Blonde (sorry, just no)
Too prone to extensive partying (been there, done that. I'm OLD now)
Smoker (I do not enjoy the taste of an ashtray)


See? Destined to be alone forever.

I'm too damn fussy for my own good but, as I get older, I seem to be getting fussier. Where will it end? Soon my 'type' will be so niche that only 3 men in the whole world will fit the bill. With (virtually) every date that I go on, I add something else to 'The List'. However, you will notice that I didn't mention too much about actual physical looks up there. Well, guess what, I'm fussy there too. QUELLE SURPRISE. Dark hair, slightly Jewish looking, nice eyes, good nose, nice neck (big Adam's apples freak me right out). Bring me all these things and I will be happy. See, NICHE!!


What are your dealbreakers?