Dust unsettled.

After a week of not talking, the youngster drunk dialled me on Tuesday night. He had graduated earlier that day and was out with his fellow 22 year olds. Needless to say, being an oldie (I am quarter of a century now), I was already in bed at 10pm when he called.

So I tried my hardest to play hard to get, but I have never been that strong. I text him the next day to say congratulations for graduating and he called me. We spoke for a while and it was really good to hear from him so I decided to agree when he asked if he could take me for dinner.

Yesterday was one of the best dates I've had in a long time. We spent 8 hours together eating, talking, watching films, watching the sun go down over Cardiff Bay (I know, I just made myself vomit too!) and it felt amazing. He has completely unsettled my plans to give up men for a while!

And part of the problem is that I got some amazing news this week. I'm moving to my spiritual home (Somerset/Devon) soon as I have just been offered an amazing job opportunity which is a wonderful career move for me. So I think I am going to have to attempt to be detached from the "relationship" we've got and have as much fun with him while I can, but still keep in the back of my mind that I know it isn't right and that this move will be the best thing to happen to me in a long time.

I've been saying 2014 would be my year for about 3 years. It looks that way career wise, but on the man front it's all still up in the air.

Another one bites the dust

This is a post-"break-up" post. But don't be scared off straight away; I won't be banging on about how devastated/angry/insecure I am.

This latest three month fling was with, shock horror, a younger man!! I never thought I'd find myself dating someone three years my junior, but it happened. He was tall, dark and had amazing dimples so I could overlook the age. Mostly because everyone I have ever been with has been older and has still acted about 12 years old.

But then he went to Europe for a few weeks and while he was away and telling me he was missing me, I was at home enjoying my single life with the girls again and not really believing him anyway. I was right not to believe him because I found out through a Facebook comment sent to another person that he was home, and got so fed up of waiting to actually see him that I resorted to a text to call it off, feeling just as childish as all those idiots I've dated before!

Instead of feeling vulnerable, which is the normal reaction to finding myself without a man to give me attention and have regular sex with, I am feeling positively perky. I had a great day in work, when in the past I could be found blubbering in the bathroom after a break-up. I came home to an amazing letter, which could possibly be the best opportunity of my career and my life. And I've spent my evening sniggering at old Sex and the City episodes, feeling a huge sense of female camaraderie with these timeless characters, relying on Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Sam to make me laugh because all my besties are busy.

My best friends for the night

And now I have an amazing weekend ahead, with a night out on the cards for friend's birthday on Saturday. As they say "another one bites the dust". But I'm just going to dust off my dancing shoes for an amazing night with the girls and forget all about him.

Running scared

I have signed up for my first half marathon.

I honestly never thought I would think/say/write those words in my life but here I am, aching all over after just six miles of training this week, wondering what on Earth I have got myself into!

I'm not new to running, and have four shiny medals to show for the 10k races I have entered in the past two years.

But a half marathon is a truly terrifying prospect. The furthest I have ever run is 10 km or 6.2 miles. A half marathon is 21 km or 13.1 miles! I'm not even sure my little, weak ankles will carry my happy fatty body that far but I am determined, and now I have set up a JustGiving page to raise money for a charity I MUST NOT back out!!

The charity I'm supporting by plodding heavily through the streets of Cardiff will be CoppaFeel. I actually signed up for the race without the intention of raising money for any charity, but a week or two after I signed up I watched a documentary on BBC3 about this amazingly inspiring young women, not much older than me, who was diagnosed with terminal Breast Cancer in her early 20s. Instead of running scared, she is bravely educating other young girls and women on the importance of getting to know your own boobs.

So get checking your boobies girlies, and if you would like to support the charity (and me on my run) you can donate at: www.justgiving.com/Emily-Worthington2/

Life is shit, and then you step in some

I don't normally get angry about anything but I was seething with fury this week.

I stepped out of my car onto MY drive and then stepped a little bit onto MY garden before I went through the front door. I then walked through the hall and into the kitchen before I realised I had walked dog shit all through the carpet!! Some disgusting person had let their dog poo on my garden and then didn't pick it up. 

So to all the horrible, irresponsible dog owners who don't pick up after their poor pooches relieve themselves, I hope you watch this video and feel shamed into picking up! 

Google maps is NOT the best...

According to The Lonely Island:

"Google maps is the best, true that, double true."

Today I have proved them wrong and although I have always sworn my hatred of a sat nav, I'm beginning to re-think my navigational needs. 

I had to drive to what can only be described as the back of beyond for work and Google maps thought it would be fun to let me drive in a massive, unnecessary circle to reach my destination, adding twenty uncomfortable minutes on to an already awkward car journey with a colleague.

As I was driving through, I played a little game in my mind. 

I am in my car and all that I can see

Twelve truants mitching

Eleven alchys drinking

Ten kids-a-smoking

Nine Nana's swearing

Eight bins overflowing 

Seven drunks-a-singing

Six cars-a-burning

FIVE NIPPLE RINGS

Four dressing gowns

Three police men

Two tanned loves

And a van doing 60 in a 20*

*Disclaimer: I won't hear a bad word said about The Valleys by MTV or anyone else, but I enjoy making up songs in my head - especially to the tune of a Christmas jingle. 

Emmy the Elephant

Emmy the Elephant shook her humps,

and the men made her feel worthless.

They'd never seen such bumpy bumps,

frump, frump, frump.

Our eyes met across the room....

..... as each of us busted out the robot to a classic 5ive tune.

Okay, this didn't actually happen, but my colleague in work pointed out today that this will probably be my fate.

I have one dance move that I consistently fall back on. I may through in the odd knee cross, sprinkler arm, wiggle of the bum, or I may even do the twist. But I will always, always fall back on the old swinging arm and the classic slow mo robo dance regardless of the song that is playing.

I think it might have to be one of my deal breakers for the next man I get with; if you can't accept my shapes, you won't be getting any dates.