Meet my friend Ben .....

It has begun.

A little sooner than I thought, but it's certainly here. With avengence.

The burning desire to jump on a plane has crash landed into my life and caused Travel Republic's web traffic to shoot through the roof.

I so want to go. Now.

Why?

I haven't got the foggiest. The weather's still a bit crap, nobody's really there yet and not everything's open.

So why, oh why am I having to literally restrain myself from packing a suitcase?

I suppose I should explain what the hell I'm banging on about, just for the benefit of those that don't really understand, or aren't aware, of my colourful travelling history.

I'm holiday addicted.

It's a very expensive habit, and one that I don't really see myself kicking any time soon. Now, I get stick for this, not because I like going on holiday, but because despite protestations to the contrary, I always generally end up going back to the same place.

I'm addicted to holidays in Marmaris, Turkey.

If I had my way it would be one very long, extended holiday. But alas, I am skint, so holidays will have to do for the time being.

I think I know what's caused this to start so early on - it's because I had a plan. Yes, it was a rather ill-timed and niave plan, but it seemed like a good one at the time. Had things worked out with the boy, and by that I mean, had he not been practicaly mute for most of the winter, causing me to seriously question my own sanity, then I planned to go out there for the week, which would have been next week. Instead, the reality of the matter is, I'm not going out next week, in fact I'm not going out for a little while yet, and things certainly have not worked out with the boy, because I actually don't even know if he's working there this year at all.

Part of me hopes not.

One day I will be over this, I promise.

Is it wrong to be very excited about a holiday, yet at the same time, really quite worried about the state I may come home in? I don't want it again, I can't do all that again, it doesn't work, I've tried, so I'm going to try my damned hardest not to. However, me, vodka and the sight of a certain person really don't go together well, if you throw Efes into the mix, then my god, you're really asking for trouble. So that's why a little bit of me is hoping I don't have to deal with it. Will I succeed? Only time will tell I guess, but this time I know how it ends, so really, what is the point? Just show me the Efes, baklava and a chicken kebab or three, and I'm a happy girl - I don't need a broken heart, thanks very much.

I wouldn't mind, but he still owes me 16 TL.

Git.

Another reason why I'm quite keen to escape is the weather. I can't swim very well, so this torrential monsoon-like situation isn't filling me with much joy. It certainly didn't fill me with much joy when my ceiling started leaking yesterday either - trying to sleep with a 'drip drip drip' backing track isn't easy, let me tell you. Will it ever stop?! I have beautiful summer clothes that need wearing before they go out of fashion!

This is quite a depressing post isn't it? I do apologise, it's the rain - again blame it on the weatherman. I think I've got a derivative of SAD. Show me the sunshine and I'm smiling.

Speaking of which, I think I may go and indulge in something else that never fails to make me smile ......

Ben & Jerry's.

If you were thinking other things, shame on you and your filthy mind!

I have discovered Ben & Jerry's Karamel Sutra and OMG - who needs a man when you've got a tub of that bad boy? It hits places that no dude ever could. So of course I've bought three tubs. It would be rude not to.

In fact, I think I can hear it calling my name ......

Diet? What diet?

Flying Solo

This is a bit of a blast from the past, a guest blog post I wrote last year. It's reminded me of my old writing style (which is arguably better than now!) and definitely gave me food for thought - enjoy!

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I am eternally single.

Now before you start with the ‘awww’ faces and the ‘bless her’ pats on the head, really it’s fine, it won’t last forever – I hope. However, in the meantime, it would be nice not to be treated like some sort of social leper because of my lack of a ‘plus one’ situation. Yes, it’s official, wedding/party invites are the single girl’s arch enemy.

Single ladies out there, I’m sure you’re familiar with this, it seems to be something me and my flying solo friends all agree on – that and the myth we all look like something out of Hogwarts, because that must be why we’re single,  of course - god forbid it could be out of choice.

Take one of my closest friends for example. We’ll call her Kelly, just for the hell of it. In the 11 years I’ve known Kelly, she has never been single. I know, jammy cow. I love her to bits, but she is unfortunately a smug, coupled-up type. I met her when she was in a long-term relationship, and when that split up, she immediately met someone else. She married him and now has two adorable children. From the age of 16 she has been part of a couple. It’s for this reason I think she finds my single situation a bit strange, and possibly abnormal. Actually, I’m convinced she thinks I’m weird, but then she might not be far wrong on that score.

But anyway, when we catch up, I always know the first question she’s going to ask me, without fail. The day she doesn’t ask me this question will be the day I know something is very, very wrong.

“Have you met anyone?”

Arrrgh! I hate this question with a passion. And no matter how unbothered I am about having to say ‘no’, I always automatically feel like a failure for a few minutes, before I mentally slap myself back to normality. Again, it’s that infamous ‘aww bless’ look which always follows my answer to this question that really gets my goat.

The simple truth is that my life does not revolve around frantically trying to find a man to make me feel complete. This is what Dairy Milk was invented for.

I recently read an article that said half of all women in their 20s and early 30s are single. Does that mean that all these women, a huge amount, are unsightly, socially inept and unable to hold down a relationship? No it bloody well doesn’t! It means that we don’t feel a totally desperate need to be half of a couple, we are perfectly able to have a good time without hanging from a man’s arm, although I will admit, a bit of male company doesn’t hurt occasionally.

But the point is, no man is better than just any man. And this, ladies and gentleman, is why I am eternally single. Because I am picky and refuse to settle for anything less than my ideal man. Yes I know, nobody’s perfect, and I don’t want him to be, he’d make me feel highly inadequate if he was, but there’s certain things I’m just not willing to budge on. Excessive facial hair being one of them, yuck.

Take recently, a work colleague of mine told me that I shouldn’t go for a man who was good looking because I’d never keep him, he’d always have wandering eyes, looking for his equal match in the looks department. Lovely. Thanks for that. What she meant then, was that I should find the most minging man I could pull and stick with him, because at least that way I’d be sure he wouldn’t stray and I could rest peacefully at night.

Now I’m not shallow, ... okay I am a bit, but in my eyes, you have to at least fancy it and half the time, the guys I meet, well I just don’t. The guys I do fancy, they often tend to be a) married, b) taken, c) gay, d) weird, or most often e) massive, massive players who do nothing but stamp all over my heart.

He will come to me one day, and it will happen when I’m least expecting it, so I’m told. There’s a saying ‘one day your prince will come’, well, one day my prince will come, I have faith in this, but he’s probably got lost and is too stubborn to ask for directions, or can’t speak English.

So during this rather extended period of time when I’m single, I’ve made sure I do what I want to do, without having to check with someone else first. I have freedom, I’ve gone on fantastic girly holidays, I’ve learnt how to do cool, new stuff I’ve always wanted to do, like Indian head massage, I’ve read as many books as I’ve wanted, disappearing off into my own world and not having to hold a conversation, I’ve discovered that I love to write and spent hours doing it, I’ve had girly shopping days that have gone on for hours and then extended into nights out, I’ve danced til dawn, and I’ve had time to figure out what I want from life. I’m not saying I actually managed to figure it out, but I’ve had time to if I ever got around to it.

I’ve pretty much been selfish and lived my life how I want to live it. So when the time comes that I find this illusive, possibly illiterate, prince that can’t read a map, I won’t resent the fact that I have too many things left in my life that I still want to do, without him getting in the way. Basically, through doing all this stuff, I basically know who I am and not what someone else wants me to be.

All this ‘I am woman, hear me roar!’ speak doesn’t mean that I don’t occasionally get lonely, and that I don’t sometimes wish I had someone to cuddle up on the sofa with, but then I just cuddle my Jack Russell instead, and he is a constant that will never fall out with me because his football team lost. 

So I say embrace the single life, because it won’t last forever, and from what I’ve heard, being coupled up ain’t really all that either – just think, snoring!

Expand or shrink .....

Shrinking progress
Lost 1lb
Gained 1lb
So all in all ..... uneventful.

What happened to the determination of my last post, I hear you ask. Well it lasted until Friday afternoon then decided to go on holiday until Monday morning - my determination is very much like me you see, addicted to holidays. I was doing well, it was the hideously calorific pizza that did it. I'm allowed 1200 a day - this pizza had 1000 in it alone.

I know, shameful.

But it had to be done.

So now for the wake-up call, and time to step away from the Jelly Babies. There's a reason Jelly Babies are chubby, it's because they're eating their own arm half the time - they're the devil in disguise! They get a bit peckish and decide to nibble their own finger - bam! Another pound gained. Damn you Tesco, with your buy one get one frees!

Anyway, I've discovered something amazing, well actually I didn't, my friend did and shared the knowledge. I am now counting calories instead of points and I'm actually not hungry, which is y'know, useful.

So we'll see how long this one lasts for.

On the plus side, this health kick made me shake my arse a little harder at Zumba, and my oh my did they make us wiggle. I think it might be bordering on obsene, and I'm very sorry to whoever stands behind me but the Lord blessed me with a sizeable behind, and so shake it I must. Good fun though.

I have stalker progress! Yes, he has got the message, he has stopped sending me hopeful emails and I think (think) he's moved on to someone who gives a damn. See, the cowardly approach works sometimes! I did however have someone send me an email saying that I should only reply if I fit into a long list of strict criteria, which he continued to set out quite clearly. I was in a mood, so he got the full brunt of my hormones - don't think he'll be bothering me again either.

See, this is my problem, I'm a cow half the time, I think I scare people off. However I have been sending a few chatty texts to a guy who seems alright, I say 'seems' because I don't really know him, and only just found out his name - which alone sounded alarm bells. Now I swear this isn't intentional, but it turns out he's Turkish, well actually no, he's Kurdish but from Turkey. Sound familiar? I don't know quite how I managed that one. Plus point is he lives in England, so y'know, small mercies and all that. I have to say I'm not feeling it though, I think the ex has put me off for life, I'm not really willing to go through that gut-wrenching agony all over again, at least not quite yet anyway.

And anyway, I've only been talking to him for a day and I'm bored now.

The odd thing is, I complain about being single, but when the chance comes for me not to be, I freak out and decide I'd rather be single after all.

Yes, I know what you're thinking, I'm scared. You'd be right.

Now show me that rocking chair and golf course, maybe a few cats to keep me company.

Werther's Original anyone?

Dastardly deeds are afoot

Mwwwaaahahahah!

That's my attempt at some sort of evil genius laugh by the way, but why you wouldn't have got that the first time is beyond me, honestly, it's quite obvious.

I shall explain.

I have a plan. A fantastic plan that will bring me many things, such as:
a) closure
b) satisfaction
c) baggier fitting clothes
d) eternal happiness

Okay, the last one might be a bit hopeful/borderline crazy but the rest stand.

Yes people, I am on a mega diet. It is day 1, granted, but hell I feel goooood! Okay, I'm ravenous, slightly delerious, and am writing this post purely as a distraction from the contents of the biscuit tin. BUT! But I have stuck to points today! My stomach is gurgling very loudly as I type this, so that's got to be progress. And I will continue to tell myself this until the scales read about 5 pounds lighter than they do at the moment.

Oh good lord, I wish I'd been blessed with thin genes. Alas, I was not, I am doomed to work hard at maintaining a healthy BMI for the rest of my days.

But anyway, back to my evil genius plan.

I have around two months until my bikini is forced into the light of day. That is plenty of time to streamline a little more and achieve said bikini body. However, the plan is about much more than not scaring people on the beach, oh yes, the plan is a form of ..... would you call it revenge? Hmm, maybe, but whatever it is, it'll be damn good.

Oh god, there gurgles the stomach again.

But anyway, the plan, yes the plan is designed to show the boy, yes him again, just what he lost. Oh it will be sweet, believe me. I shall make him rue the day he decided to only very infrequently call me throughout the entire winter, albeit with nice words when he finally decided to get his arse to a computer, leaving me sobbing into my pillow for much of the first few months of it, and then randomly last night when I had a rather ill-timed, and out of the blue wobble. I blame that Pink song, you know, the one I couldn't listen to for a while? Yeah, turns out it's still not so great even now. But anyway, onwards and upwards.

My line is drawn, it is done, but oh, come on ladies, who hasn't wanted to sashay past their ex looking every inch the glossy, groomed, svelte princess? I shall be the one that got away. And matey, you will rue the day, believe me.

I think I might have gone a bit crazy through lack of food. Don't worry though, I'm not going crazy crash diet mad, I know what I'm doing, I've done it before plenty of times, I'm a sensible girl and all that. But give it a few weeks and I'll be a sensible, thinner girl, with new glossy hair, the definite abscence of that rogue spot on my chin and a nose piercing that won't be as red as it is at the moment. I shall be flawless.

Sort of.

The one who made my heart thud and flutter, made me go back to Marmaris three times in the space of a few months, hence making my bank balance look a lot thinner than me, and the one who ruined my Christmas because I couldn't get him out of my head - he shall shake his head and go 'what was I thinking letting her go?' or whatever the Turkish is for that. Because believe me, I've realised this lately, he lost a good 'un, and short of a near miracle in the form of a total personality transplant and a time machine to change all the bad, he lost her for good, and that's really quite sad.

So roll on breakfast time, I'm bloody starving.

Bored.com

I'll warn you in advance, this is probably going to be a bit of a random update, because nothing of any interest has happened this week. At all. Well, nothing you'd be interested in anyway, unless you're really that sad, and you're thrilled by the news that our local Chinese has re-opened after a four week shutdown. That's literally all I have been excited about this week. In fact, it's so boring, I can't even find a picture to symbolise it.

I've spent most of the week staring at my finances and thinking 'arrrrgh!' Don't you just love the last two weeks before payday?! What is concerning me slightly is that it's well under two months before my jollies begin, which in my world is two paydays. Does Nicky have any spending money saved up? Does she hell. Does she have many nice dresses to wear on this holiday? Hell yeah. Hmm, I think my priorities might be a little screwed up, but hey, it's not like I really need to do anything important, like, erm, eat is it?! ..... Think I need to step away from the shops, block eBay and start thinking how I'm going to fund two and a half weeks of basic survival. So I'm not dubbing it spending money, I'm dubbing it 'Efes money', because for some reason that makes me want to save so much more!

The writing's still going well, I think it's been good for me in a lot of ways actually, it's made me realise that the world is a lot bigger than Turkey. At the moment I'm thinking that the second hol of the year might be to somewhere other than the usual easternly direction, but I know that after my first visit of the year, I'll be straight onto Travel Republic for a flight back. But hey, I guess there's worse things to be addicted to. I guess we shall see.

I'll be honest, I'm really struggling for interesting things to tell you, I've had officially the most boring week, ever. Even the stalker's given up. Thankfully I've had no more requests to partake in tantric massage, and literally all I've done all week is work, write and read. I haven't even zumba'd, although I'm soooo getting back on that horse next week, a girl needs a shimmy every now and then, especially considering the diet I was "supposed" to be started on Monday literally lasted for one day and then went a bit AWOL by Tuesday morning.

I dieted pretty constantly for about two years a few years ago, and I lost a lot of weight (4 and a half stones if you're interested, yay me!) and I was so focused, literally caned it with the aerobics classes, even though my motivation might have been a bit questionable and more to do with the intructor at the time than the exercise. But now, fastforward and I find it literally impossible to diet, or at least stick to points/cutdown, whatever you want to call it, for more than a day! Day 2, and it's like I'm starving and need to make up for the day before. I think that might be defeating the object a little. So today I'm trying my best, because I looked at the calendar the other day and realised how little time it is before I have to unleash the belly in a bikini. Work needs to be done, let me tell you. I thought I'd done with my times of having to sit and literally focus on the wall so as not to raid the biscuit tin, or chew my arm off in night-time hunger, I had years of it, when will it ever end?! 

Answer to that probably is, it never does. I sometimes wish food didn't taste so nice.

Anyway, I'm going to go and do some writing of my book now, the one I haven't touched for weeks and weeks. Hopefully by next week I'll have something actually interesting to write about, and won't have to pad it out with random crap that I'm sure nobody's that interested in reading about. I do apologise, I will try and find adventure for next week, I promise ......

Silly season begins

I've written this blog three times now, the first was the stupid computer's fault, and the second was because I just ranted on for about four A4 pages, and I realised people would stop reading after the first few lines. Doesn't make for repeat readers, let me tell you.

Anyway, this weekend I have been mostly eating far too much chocolate and writing about exotic, and not so exotic places, whilst dreaming about my own upcoming jollies to slighty exotic places. The eating chocolate thing proves that I have a serious problem with moderation, i.e. I don't know the meaning of it. Diet starts tomorrow. Or maybe the day after.

The worrying thing about it being April is not the rain, although that's not compatible with good hair, but that it's only a month to go until the sinking feeling will return. I've got a slight sink going on already, it's building up to be a shocker, I can tell. But no, next month the desperate want to jump on a plane and head east will begin again. It's hideous, I'm trying to sort myself out, not get into more trouble, arrgh! The only person's finances that are going to be looking up at this rate, are Travel Republic's - certainly not mine. Roll on a couple of years when I don't have this trauma because I'll already be there.

Phew. Deep breath.

Anyway, the whole imposter at large thing seems to be sorted, I think anyway. For all I know I could have an evil triplet by now, but to be honest, by summer there'll probably be an army of imposters causing havoc that I won't know about, so why worry? I guess the ones that matter know the truth, and that's all that counts.

Further evidence (god, I really do sound like Poirot now) has come to light, pretty much confirming in my mind who's behind it. Lordy lordy me, it's a sad state of affairs.

What I affectionately refer to as silly season has begun. This is where any female with Turkish/Kurdish friends on Facebook suddenly gets an influx of randomers 'poking' them. Why, oh why? Well I can only assume that in the mind of these randomers, 'poking' tourists will of course lead them to visit said poker during season, and as if by magic, bam! There's that week's girlfriend. I've become bitter and twisted over winter, can you tell?

I blame the boy.

I still blame him for most things.

I also blame him for the nasty irritation in the pit of my stomach on the realisation that now silly season is upon us, he'll be unleashed on the female visiting population of Marmaris again and I'll be forgotten. But then I probably have been already, so what's the point in thinking about it?

Because I'm not as heartless as him, that's why. Grrrr, it must be nice to have an on-off switch like that.

But hey, it's my challenge to get over that thought, let's face it, it's gonna happen, if it's not already.

So that leads me seamlessly (anyone would think I'd been writing articles) onto the weekly disasterous love life update.

In short - still disasterous, yet slightly more humourous.

When I'm not battling my Kurdish demons and memories, I'm batting off overly amourous advances from randoms - one wanting me to help him practice, and I quote, "tantric massage". I kid you not. He even offered to reimburse my travel costs. Do these people have no shame?! And before you ask, no I did not take him up on his offer!

The stalker is still at it. Clearly not at all lacking in confidence, because rejection doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest, and the excuse of not having a mobile phone for him to call me on is still working. Come on dude, open your eyes, who doesn't have a mobile these days?!

I'm reading a book at the moment, total chick-lit but quite good, called The Dating Detox. It's about this girl who's so sick of all the crap that goes along with dating, so she calls time on it and goes cold turkey. Is it wrong that when I typed that, I automatically put a capital letter in front of Turkey as if the country is all I would ever be typing about? Sweet baby Jesus, I need to go somewhere else.

Anyway, back on topic, when she decides she's not available, all manner of opportunities come her way, but she realises that she's happier without a man, without any of the drama, washing-machine stomach of anxiety and worry that comes with dating. I think she might be onto something, and maybe that explains why the more you say 'no', the more it becomes a challenge to make you say 'yes'. Not gonna happen mate, not gonna happen.

So I might try this, I mean I'm not going to admit it's an enforced detox, because hey if I wanted to there's always ..... erm ....the stalker ....

But that's my thing now, I'm detoxing my life of randomers, pokers, tantric masseurs and people trying to clone me on Facebook.

Surely these things don't happen to normal people?!