Anyone who knows me in real life will know this story from when it happened back in 2016, it’s pretty much a favourite tale to dust off every so often during social events.
So settle down, kiddos… here’s the story of the date who ate my ice cream.
I wish he was that cute though…
Before 2016, I had never lived by myself. It felt like something I could have really done, but never really had the chance (or balls) to.
So on the first of May, I moved out…
Déjà vu (noun) The illusion of having previously experienced something actually being encountered for the first time.
Feels very relevant, seeing as I haven’t blogged again for over 2 years! Terribly inconsistent but I have good reasons, honest!!
So I had a bad date with the help of Dutch, so the best thing to do was Taylor Swift it.
Shake that shit off.
And yes, Taylor Swift is a guilty pleasure and one of my spirit animals. Judge me all you want.
… and it’s time to dive into the single pool to try and catch me a fish. Or as other people call it – dating.
I put myself on a dating site, then it’s a case of pulling on a metaphorical pair of waders and find a frog worth kissing. Unfortunately, having been in a relationship for a while meant that I was somewhat naive.
So here it is: my first date since the big break-up. And it was a doozy…
You’re single and ready to mingle. You have the flattering sexy dress / outfit, you nailed your make-up, you’re oozing confidence but there’s a hitch:
How do you meet people to date?!
Seriously? What do you do?! Cover yourself in bacon and stand in the middle of a club to twerk? Set up a Wile E. Coyote trap with a decent steak and beer, stooped round the corner holding the other end of the string? How was I going to get into the dating scene?!
As I’m hurtling towards the bright, blinding exit light that is my 20’s; I feel like I should be having a meltdown as middle age looms ever closer. So I decided to do a thing… it’s called a “kicking the 30 bucket” list which is snappier then :
13 things to do by the time I’m done with being 30 (so by the age of 30 years and 364 days old).
Cue the theme tune!
I get it a lot… Why are you single? You’re attractive / funny / smart / etc, how come you’re not married? You’d be an awesome wife / mum one day.
“That’s sweet of you to say,” I reply. It’s not for a lack of trying, but I must confess finding love is not high on my list of things I must have in my life right now. Also this is pretty accurate: