Best laid plans ....

Snow, snow go away, and bring me summer whilst you're at it!

We're getting there people, slowly but surely we're heading in the right direction; namely towards June, when the sun shines and I don't have to wear six layers from the moment I leave my electrically warmed bed, to falling back into it at night.

I don't suppose it helps when the shops are now full of summer clothes, tempting me into buying cropped t-shirts, denim shorts and bikinis. Whilst these are going to look fab in summer, in February, when you're up to your ankles in the white stuff and it's -9 at night, really you're going to get some funny looks. So layers it is.

And to answer the question on your lips - yes, I did buy them. I'm going to look great in summer, I might look like a tramp right now, but bring on the sun and I'll blossom like a butterfly, you just watch.

I suppose the one plus about it being winter is that I can't just jump on a plane to Turkey. In the summer, well last summer anyway, I felt unsettled and like I wanted to book a flight every other day. I can't do that at the moment, so I feel strangely centred and settled. It won't last, just wait until May, my addiction to Travel Republic will be at stratospheric levels yet again. If that site made money on traffic alone, they'd be a hell of a lot richer and I'd be asking for royalties.

I'm feeling a tad bit more positive this week, you'll be pleased to know. I've made a few decisions, I have a plan, I can see a road leading to where I want to be. I'm very much expecting a few bumps in this road, it wouldn't be life without them, but at least it's heading in the right direction, when before I had a vague idea but I was taking the most unscenic detour known to man.

They say positivity breeds opportunities, at least I think they do, but if they don't then they ought to because I think it might be working.

For a start, you'll all be very pleased to hear this I'm sure, I have given up on the boy. An epiphany called Istanbul came my way and as much as I wish things were different, they just aren't, and are never going to be. So this little chicken is moving on, albeit limping and slightly wounded from the whole affair, but hey, at least I tried, right? I have no regrets and I can ask no more than that. Everyone has their heart broken at some stage, mine just came a little later than most.

Summer however is going to be interesting, but that's a story for a future blog, no doubt.

So a few opportunities have started coming my way this week, one in particular made me squeak veeeery loudly when it landed in my inbox on Friday. Fingers crossed, but that's all I'll say because I don't want to jinx it!

One thing I have learnt this week, even though I sort of already knew this, is that parents and technology do not go together at all well. My parents have my old laptop, the key word in that is 'old'. Something bizarre has happened to it where it won't start up and it's suddenly like the technological world has decided to conspire to do it on purpose. I fixed it once, it's broken again. It really isn't the end of the world, someone else will fix it better, someone who actually knows what they're doing and isn't just pressing random buttons and hoping for the best. But bloody hell, anyone would think someone's chopped their left arm off, and they don't even use it that much. One particular suggestion was that a virus has caused it (which it hasn't, I've scanned it) and it's as though it's suddenly going to jump out of the computer and infect every human being within a 10 mile radius. Honestly.

So this is how I am about to spend my Sunday afternoon. Fixing a computer to avert a household drama. I don't really have much confidence in this happening, the last time I managed to fix it, well I couldn't really tell you what I did to it, it just worked after pressing a few buttons. I don't remember which buttons granted, but I'll give it another go. I had planned to spend the day lazing around, doing some writing and making some headway with my book. So far I have written one paragraph, before the great computer drama occured.

Best laid plans .....

Running before I can walk

I think I might have massively overestimated my stage in the heartbreak recovery process. Over the last couple of days, I have definitely tried to run before I can walk. This is not good news, I think I need to go back to Istanbul to find myself again. Now wouldn't that be a damn shame?!

I think the 'oh I'm fine, I'm cured' stance adopted during and immediately after my fab little trip east, might have been fuelled by that wonderful emotion we call anger. The only problem is that anger does not last forever, and like most things it fades into something less dramatic. In my case that's going from happy, positive Nicky, back to mooching, feeling bleugh Nicky. It was nice for those few days though, I guess that's something. Just need to find a way to make the high last a little longer next time.

So trying to be proactive, refusing to mooch if I could help it, I decided to try something drastic. Now, don't laugh, this is not something I would normally admit to doing, but my god it has made me chuckle, so really it would be rude not to share.

Okay here goes - I attempted onling dating.

Never again.

In the space of half an hour, I was propositioned, insulted, freaked out and reduced to tears due to laughing far too much. One guy wanted to show me his art work, I'm not sure if he really meant his art work or something else.

Now I'm sure for some people this method of meeting people works, in fact I know a couple who met over the internet and are now happily married. I can only assume they were both a hell of a lot more patient than me, and happy to weed their way through countless weirdos before finding someone with a basic level of sanity. I have no patience, so it looks like back to the drawing board for me.

The worrying thing about this is that during my time of searching for potentially half decent guys, I found myself comparing them all to the boy. This is not good news either. I read an age, my immediate thought was 'oh he was 27 last week too', I saw a photo of someone vaguely ethnic looking, my interest immediately piqued, only to crash back down when I realised he looked nothing like him, so therefore was not attractive in my eyes.

Arrgh! I'm trying, honest to god I am. I know that I've done all I can and need to walk away, so I'm trying to be proactive, trying to move on, albeit half-heartedly, or even quarter-heartedly, if there is such a thing. Why is it not working?!

Yes, I know, I must be patient. Like I said before, I have no patience.

This may also be because the basic reality of it all is, I don't really want to let it go. But let it go I must. So I'm told.

I really am starting to believe that maybe I'm destined to be alone. I even sat and thought about this in some depth the other day, tried to convince myself that it really wouldn't be so bad, tried to see the positives in it. There's a few I came up with - no male moods, no dealings with man flu, no having to pick up wet towels off the bathroom floor, nobody leaving the toilet set up, no odd, dirty socks on the bedroom floor. That's it. A pathetic bunch of positives to come up with really.

Of course, I don't need a man to make me happy, I'm thinking maybe that seeing as everybody I even look at these days seems to come up short and be compared to someone who really doesn't treat me properly anyway, and has questionable eyebrows, then maybe I really am better off on my tod for a while. If you read Cosmo, which I do quite frequently, then all the twaddle they spout about being happy with yourself, and needing time to heal after a relationship break up, really could be quite true. I think I might try and find out.

So needless to say, I won't be seeing anybody's art work, and I certainly won't be going to other dude's house to bake bread (yes, this was a serious request), in fact this whole experience of delving into the world of internet weirdos has put me off for life. I apologise if I'm insulting anyone that uses these sites, I'll quite happily admit that not everyone is like this, it's just that I seem to attract weirdos.

They say opposites attract, you see.

An Eastern Adventure

I am knackered. I have bags under my eyes that I’m surprised Easy Jet didn’t try and charge me for. I also have a knackered shoulder thanks to National Express thinking that their seats are in any way suitable for long-distance travel.

However, this was all in a good cause.

Istanbul baby!

It was absolutely fantastic – tiring, but sooooo worth it.

I know what you’re thinking, and you can stop right there! No, it had nothing to do with a man. I’ll  reiterate that because it seems nobody believes me, and in most people’s eyes, the only reason a girl would go to Istanbul in winter is to see a guy. Wrong! This girl goes to Istanbul in winter for fun girly weekend breaks, chicken kebabs, Efes and baklava. No men involved. However there was rather a lot of Efes involved, but that’s never a bad thing.

It was an overall really positive trip in a lot of ways, the main one being that I may have come to my senses in regards to the boy. Shock horror! Yes, I know, long overdue. I’m done. I think. I really don’t want to be done, but I’m done. Bottom line is, yeah I still have feelings, quite strong ones, but I deserve to be treated better. Done.

Are you convinced yet? Have I said the word ‘done’ enough times?

But really, I’m done. Honest I am.

So anyway, back to our little adventure.

Getting ready in Nottingham

For the many things I saw and learnt in those four days, one of the first was that student night in the middle of Nottingham is, erm, yeah, interesting. I come from a large town, so I thought I’d seen most things with regards to nights out, but bouncers in McDonalds? That’s a new one on me. I don’t fancy their job either, with some of the sights that attempted to cross the door for a Big Mac. Scary. In fact, they made Ronald McDonald look friendly.

In case you were wondering what the hell we were doing in a city in the Midlands, when I was meant to be heading east – meeting my mate en route. See, now you understand.

So then came the first trauma of a very long night and day - my first ever Easy Jet flight. Yeah, I was an Easy Jet virgin – and after attempting to get seated, I understood why. Oh my god, talk about cattle market. It’s a good job we’d loaded up on Krispy Kremes and Starbucks otherwise I might just have lost my rag with the pushing, shoving and general rudeness. And that was just the stewardesses. We eventually got seated and on our way; I think my stress levels dropped somewhere over Germany, and that was only thanks to my second donut of the day. Breakfast of champions.

The moment we landed in Turkey I felt like I’d come home. My friend agreed.

Don’t roll your eyes. It just felt right, and considering I’d never been to Istanbul before, you’ve got to admit that’s pretty weird. I can’t explain it, I just connect with the place for some reason, everything about it. Okay not everything, I did end up having a rather heated debate over the whole Turkish/Kurdish thing at one point, but it’s fine, we agreed to disagree. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully explain, or understand, why a country that five years ago, I had no interest at all in visiting, has managed to get me hook, line and sinker, completely in love with it. But I ain’t complaining.

So Istanbul.

Crossing from Asia to Europe

Istanbul is big. Huge in fact. That’s one big assed city. It was also one very cold, big assed city. But a wonderful, cold, big assed city all the same. We didn’t get lost either, well apart from in the Grand Bazaar but I’m assured that even the locals get lost in there, so you can’t really blame us for that.

And then it snowed.

Now I’ve learnt that in England, we are absolutely crap at snow. I’ve suspected this for a while, my ex-flatmate was Norwegian, well she is Norwegian still, but whenever it snowed she used to roll her eyes and mutter about how we used to stop everything and panic, when in Norway everything just carried on. She’s right, I’ve seen it with my own eyes now. Nobody batted an eyelid when massive white flakes started falling from the murky sky and people started sliding down the street, rather than walking. We were shrieking and muttering about cold, whilst trying not to fall over. Spot the Brit. But the snow added a certain something to it, I have to admit. Frostbite maybe, but it was pretty.

Beautiful Blue Mosque at night

We did the normal touristy things – Blue Mosque (beautiful and so serene, although the fashion look we were forced to adopt, headscarf, no shoes and dodgy blue wrap thing, because apparently leggings aren’t considered the thing to wear (even when covered by a dress), was not something Gok Wan would have approved of), Hagia Sofia (really took my breath away), Grand Bazaar (lost! Was just like Marmaris bazaar on acid basically), and Taksim square (busy!). We also did the normal touristy thing of getting conned.

The new fashion trend .. it'll catch on!

You’d think we’d know better, it’s far from the first time we’ve been to this country, but no, we fell for several scams, which thankfully we can laugh at now.

The first one was due to us being completely and utterly naive, there really is no other excuse for it, we should have known better. There we were, stood taking photos of Blue Mosque, trying not to turn blue ourselves due to the cold, when this tall, dark, handsome stranger comes over and starts asking us where we’re from, telling us that he talks to tourists to practice his English. Yeah, I know, looking back it’s obvious, his English was better than mine. Then he asks if we want to go to his shop for a drink because Turkish hospitality (we heard this phrase far too much from men over the course of the weekend) says that if you have a drink with someone, that means 40 years of friendship. I know, I know – gullible.

Yes, we went. Yes, we’re naive. Turns out his shop was a carpet shop.

Yeah, I’ll pause for you to laugh.

In our defence, it was a carpet shop with central heating, so all was not lost.

We got our cup of cay, but we also got the hard sell from his boss, after the dude who had collared us in the street, the one who wanted to be our friend for 40 years, had conveniently disappeared. Hmmm, ploy to get girls into the shop? Methinks so. Needless to say, we didn’t buy a carpet, I can’t say I have 500 quid going spare, and if I did, I wouldn’t be spending it on a carpet. We did however play him at his own game and pretend we were interested in purchasing one, making him get loads and loads of carpets out, us sitting there going ‘no, I don’t like that one’, ‘yeah that’s nice’, ‘oh have you got that in pink?’ Served him right.

We managed to escape eventually, after he made me take loads of photos of the carpets on my phone because we’d lied and said we’d call someone back home with a photo of one, as they may be interested, then return later.

Needless to say we didn’t.

Needless to say those photos are no longer on my phone either.

So then we headed out to Hagia Sofia, and found the Istanbul version of the famous Marmaris chat up line ‘let’s go for a walk on the beach’. Anyone who’s been to Marmaris will know that a ‘walk on the beach’, does not involve walking. Seems the Istanbul version of this is to hang around well known tourist spots, and randomly compliment English girls, telling them that it’s Turkish hospitality (that again) and do we want to meet him later in Taksim for a glass of wine. Er, no. What’s your name again?!

Shameless, I tell you.

Pleased with our day of sightseeing in the snow, we decided to head over to Taksim to meet a friend for some well-deserved Efes. Then came scam number 2, or 3 if you want to look at the wine thing another way - taxi on a meter. Normally I wouldn’t get in a taxi without agreeing a price first, but it was absolutely Baltic, snowing and there were no taxis to be seen apart from this particular one, which is odd considering on our last night, there were more taxis than ants on the pavement in summer. So in we get, being far too trusting again – bad move. A taxi that should have cost us 15 lira, ended up costing us nearer 30, thanks to him driving around in a rather large circle, hoping we wouldn’t notice. In the end we got our friend to speak to him on the phone and he practically threw us out earlier than he should, luckily we managed to find our way. Git.

The final scam (yes, we had one for every day we were there) was a little old man, who we thought we were helping out. Wrong again. Turns out the sweet, little old man, was a conman instead.

What would you do if an old, tottering man walked past you and dropped his shoe brush? You’d shout him back and pick it up for him, right? Well being well mannered girls, that’s what we did. And when the old man shouted after us and offered to shine our shoes for helping him, being typically British we bumbled a bit, saying ‘oh no need’ before he took the initiative and practically began shining our boots anyway. Nice old man he was, telling us about his children, who then became his starving children, who we then bought dinner for when he charged us 20 lira each. Shiny shoes though.

You live and learn.

Something I will never learn, it seems, is that me and alcohol do not go together well. Well, we go together well at the time, not so well a couple of hours later when I’m sat on the bathroom floor, groaning that I’m never drinking again. It was worth it though, we had a great night, and for the first time in ages I forgot all the crap (i.e. the crap with the boy) and just had a good time. I liked that feeling. I’m keeping hold of that feeling.

There are definitely some sights in Taksim of an evening though, at one stage I wasn’t sure if I was looking at a man or a woman, whatever it was, it was very convincing either way. It also seems that rocking up at a restaurant serving dessert at 3am is perfectly normal, as is eating Baklava and kunefe washed down with Efes at 3am. I have to say, it’s my kinda city.

Baklava

Kunefe

I’ve yet to decide which I prefer – baklava or kunefe, but it’s a close call. It’s also what I’m blaming my 3lb weight gain on. Nothing to do with the Efes at all.

The next morning though, after groaning about never drinking again, I woke up with the hangover of all hangovers. We were not up for sightseeing, I didn’t really feel like I was up for keeping anything solid down either, but you’ll be pleased to know I managed it. So instead of going to Topkapi Palace like we’d intended, we meandered around, with the sole intention of finding Starbucks, and actually ending up down near the fish market and walking along the sea front. It was nice, and it blew away some of the hangover. It was on this walk we came across the shoe shine man. I blame the hangover, and the lack of Starbucks. The ironic thing about this is that when you’re not looking for Starbucks in Istanbul, you’ll find three; when you want one, there’s none to be found.

For some reason the hangover made us slightly more adventurous and we bravely tried the underground on our own. We didn’t get lost. How good is that? We were ridiculously proud of ourselves and took a few photos to prove it. Yeah, we’re sad, but it was fun. We also did the obligatory bit of shopping and found the most bargainous of bargains, a shop selling loads of costume jewellery for 3 lira each. We managed to bag ourselves 100 lira’s worth of jewellery for 15 lira. Now if that’s not a find, I don’t know what is. And it is in this shop that I decided I was definitely getting my nose pierced. I mean, you get a pack of 5 gorgeous nose studs for 3 lira, of course it’s a sign you must get a hole punched through your nose.

Look closely - needle!

Well, I thought it would be punched through, turns out it was stabbed through with a very large needle and left in for a while, whilst my mate took photos of me looking like something out of a tribe. Hideous. The guy doing the deed kept stopping to laugh at me, which didn’t fill me with much confidence – surely it’s perfectly normal for your lip to quiver when someone’s coming at you with a 10cm needle, with the intention of sticking it through your nose?! He’s lucky I didn’t punch him, it’s a bit of a reflex action in self-defence where needles are concerned. You wouldn’t think I’d got three tattoos.

But I was brave anyway, and I now have a cute pink, sparkly stud. What isn’t cute is the rather large hook on the end of it that I have to keep in for six weeks whilst it heals. Driving me mad already, but I’m assured it’ll be worth it when I can put a normal backed stud in. And I have five to choose from, remember.

Decisions, decisions.

There was far too much to see in four days, and the sheer size of the place made it practically impossible to see it all anyway, but what we did see was totally worth it. I remembered what I love about Turkey without the boy being involved, because I admit I was starting to think that he was the reason for it all. Thankfully I’ve remembered he isn’t, and I remembered how to party with my friends and have a great time in their company, without constantly feeling guilty, looking over my shoulder or feeling sad about who wasn’t there. 

I think maybe I found myself again in Istanbul. Crazy, I know, but this is the first time I’ve come home from Turkey in well over 12 months without feeling like my heart’s been ripped out all over again. I like coming home and not feeling like that, as much as I still didn’t want to leave, and as much as summer planning is well underway.

The other thing this trip has left me with is an addiction to Starbucks that I don’t think I’ll ever be cured from. We don’t have a Starbucks in our town; I have the shakes to prove it. Costa just ain’t the same.

So now I look like staying put for a few months, until summer decides to grace us with its presence and I can jet off again.

Boo.

Summer – hadi hadi! Can't wait.

Bleurgh!

Lurgy. Sniffling, snot-ridden, coughing, spluttering lurgy. One day before I go away for the weekend.

Oh joy.

My throat feels like someone's dragging a cheese grater down it, but I refuse to let it stop me dragging my sorry arse across Europe.

This weekend I will be frequenting Istanbul. Initially this wasn't the plan, initially we were meant to be taking a rather cold and rainy break down south, but like most things, plans change and instead we are taking a rather cold and rainy city break instead. Chicken kebabs and Efes here I come. Yes, I know, culture and all that, and yes we will be doing that, but we will also be doing chicken kebabs and Efes, and hell, have I missed chicken kebabs and Efes. You might have noticed, I happen to quite like chicken kebab and Efes.

What I'm not looking forward to is the hideously long journey ahead of us, considering we have to fly from Luton, which means the joys of National Express through the night. I'm not good when I'm sleep deprived and stuck in a confined space; I'm grumpy and irritable. What I do have is copious amounts of sugar, in the form of Mini Eggs, so I will no doubt be bouncing off the walls and driving everyone around me mad. Poor people.

Mind you, given the choice of sleep deprived Nicky or hyper Nicky, I'd urge you to pick hyper Nicky every time.

I've had a total packing nightmare these last two days just to top it all off. I had to buy a new suitcase, a smallish one that meant I could fit many, many clothes into a small, small space. Turns out this doesn't work. Turns out I do not travel light. In my defence, surely three nights equals three night outfits and four day outfits?! Apparently not, not if you're Mr Easy Jet and refuse to let women flying to Istanbul take more clothes. I think Stellios, or whatever his name is, just doesn't want me to fashionable.

So I've had to learn the art of micro-packing and mixing and matching. I'm not good at it, it's not a skill I possess. However, I have managed it, I'm just not happy with it. And just to put the cherry on the not-so-nice cake, the new case I bought was meant to be leopard print, it looks more like army print. Bloody misleading internet pictures. And then, then! Then my boots sprung a leak in the rain and decided to leave me with wet feet, so not only did I have to do a dash to Argos for a new case, but I also had to raid town for some new boots. I'm not happy with them either, they're ankle boots, I wanted knee high ones again. Turns out beggars can't be choosers. Grrrr ...

But anyway, my mantra is .... yeah you guessed it, chicken kebab and Efes, chicken kebab and Efes .....

Sweet rebellion

When I woke up this morning, I had to check that I hadn't been abducted by aliens in the middle of the night and transported back in time 15 years. No, this wasn't because I seem to have woken up with a spot that is threatening to take over my chin, no, it is because I am feeling rebellious with a capital R.

I wasn't really a rebellious teenager in terms of fighting, or going out and getting totally trollied on questionable vodka when I was younger, no that came much later on, when I realised that earning money in the week meant I could go out and drink fluorescently coloured alcopops at the weekend, whilst dancing on a rather unsafe depiction of a speed-boat, in an even more questionable bar, after shimmying ungracefully up a pole (yes, up a pole, takes some practice, let me tell you, and not easy in heels), then trying not to fall off said speedboat, or at least not whilst spilling any of my drink. No, I was quite a good girl when I was younger, too good actually, even though I was a little cow at home. So this morning when I woke up feeling like I wanted to go and do something completely spontaneous and something which I will probably regret next week, I wondered if the universe had decided it was time to make up lost ground and reclaim my teenage youth.

It's weird, but I strangely like it. So I'm going to dye my hair very red tomorrow, yes, it will probably end up orange because it's already meant to have red in it (although I'm sure I was sold a duff with that hair dye, because it's only red in certain lights - definitely not what it said on the box). And secondly, I'm going to have my nose pierced. Tastefully of course, I'm not going to go the whole bull-ring thing, a nice sparkly little stud will do nicely. I'm having to do some research first though, I've heard that the side you have pierced means something in some places, I don't want to have the right side pierced only to find out later that it means 'slapper' in Hindi, or vice versa. So if anyone can shed any light on this before I go ahead and get someone to stick a hole in my nose, I'd be most grateful.

I might even get another tattoo .....

Has this rebellion got something to do with being 30 (whisper that quietly) in July?!

I think it may have something to do post-man syndrome. You know, when you go through a break up, how you're meant to get a new hair cut? Well I don't want a new hair cut, I'm growing my hair so that wouldn't be helpful, instead I'm going to dye the mop red and turn my nose into a sieve.

And if it all goes wrong, the best thing is I can blame the boy! Not my fault at all, not my idea, and nothing to do with my bad judgement. No, it is all down to he who shall not be named. Sorted.

I do like this idea, I could do all manner of things and claim insanity due to being emotionally battered and bruised. Hmm, where to start ....?!

This week, apart from my regression in years, I've been out every night for various things, and y'know what, I'm not quite sure how I'm going to cope with staying in for the day tomorrow. Turns out, I quite like being a social butterfly, I've not done it in far too long. I'm learning what it's like to have a social life again now that summer is over and I can't jump on a plane at regular intervals, which unfortunately has the nasty side effect of draining the bank balance and running up the credit card bill. Don't get me wrong, I am skint with a capital S, it is January after all, and my plastic has taken a hit, but I've felt the need to be with my friends and I've made the effort to try and lift myself out of the funk that the boy has put me in. I say I've tried, I'm not saying it's necessarily worked. See, it's all his fault again. My credit card bill is now his fault too. This excuse I like.

My first Konad attempt

I have also made a wonderful discovery that has made me smile more than "he" has in the last few weeks - Konad nails. Oh my days, it's the most wonderful invention ever. Well, maybe not 'ever', I'm sure the hoover, fridge and the wheel might have something to say about that, but it's definitely epic.

For those of you that don't know, Konad is nail art stamping and it's oh-so-easy that even I can do it under the influence of wine. Yes, I'm drinking wine too. This is also his fault.

You can find more stuff on this wonderful invention, that is Konad, not the boy, here.

Unfortunately, with January, comes the obligatory depression of bad weather and very busy travel agents. I've spent most of the month, well when I've not been out zumba-ing or drinking hot chocolate (rock n' roll), looking at Travel Republic again. This is an addiction that is threatening never to leave me. I don't really want it to if I'm honest, I like holidays, I get a rather worrying rush from pressing 'find flights' and waiting, wondering if I can get a return to Dalaman in peak season for under £200. Not happening I tell you. What I did find was a very cheap week in May, one that I am very tempted to book, as a nice little prelude before the annual two weeker later in the summer at some point. Well I say annual, it wasn't really annual last year was it? I spent more time on a plane flying back and forth over Europe than I did going out in my own town. Mind you, can you blame me? A night out in Ches Vegas ain't really the high life. But anyway, I'm half dreading summer and half stupidly excited. The dreading part is because I seem to be incapable of not settling into normal life in summer, I'm always wanting to be elsewhere. This tells me something. Unfortunately the bank balance does not agree.

Grrrrr.

One day, defintely one day.

The grass ain't always greener

This week has been ..... oh god, this week's been weird. Up and down, emotional and just draining. I don't think it's just me either, I've spoken to at least two of my friends who both feel like their lives are going nowhere. Maybe it's January, maybe this is what this hideious month causes us to feel - a total lack of hope and an overwhelming desire to change things, but not really knowing where to start.

If I'm honest, I know the root of my unhappiness, well the main one anyway, and yeah go on, roll your eyes, groan and stamp your feet, but yes, it is the boy that is causing me this. I can't let go. I've tried, good lord, I've tried, but I just can't do it. The thought of life without him in it, in whatever capacity, just makes me feel ridiculously low. The funny (and not ha ha) thing about it is that him being in it seems to make me feel ridiculously low as well, when he's acting this way anyway. When he's being alright, it's like the highest of highs. I think maybe he's my drug, one I need to kick I guess most people would say. I just worry that I'll never find anyone again that I feel so strongly about.

I'm just not at the point where I can walk away without feeling like nothing is ever going to be right again. But I suppose the question is, am I ever going to be at that point, because really, does that point really exist?

You know what the most stupid part of it is? I could hack it, just about I think, I could if I could get the thought of him with someone else out of my head, because that thought makes me want to pull at my own hair. And this is because I have a nasty feeling this will be with someone I know, someone who would quite like to get back at me for daring to have a mind of my own. I know I can't control someone else's actions, and to be honest I think he might have a little bit of sense than that, but it seeems my mind likes toturing itself with such thoughts.

I need to get away. I'm desperate for a change of scenery and some excitement. I'm living at home at the moment, and nobody knows about my little heartbreak in the house - can you imagine what they'd say?! "What were you thinking getting involved with a Turk anyway?" I can just hear it now, and because of that, the sympathy is at an all time low. Which doesn't help because quite frankly I feel lonely, like no-one understands and like all I want to do is cry, but I can't even do that because someone hears me sniffling and wants to know what's wrong. As if going through this alone isn't bad enough.

I gave him one last chance this week ....  I won't know the outcome for definite until in 10 days' time, I have suspicions but not definites. I can't really say what it is right now, because people really will think i'm more mental than they already do. If it works, it'll be amazing, if it doesn't, I'll be in bits. But I'll have my answer with no more what ifs, and there literally will be nothing more I can do. So what choice will I have but to walk away? It's a shame that you have to risk complete and utter heartache to get your final answer.

In attempt to get out of the house, I made a point of catching up with some old friends this week. What became glaringly obvious is that nobody is happy with their life, no matter how perfect it looks from the outside. I'm sure they won't mind me saying this, it's not like I'm naming names after all ....

One of my friends, from the outside looks like she has the perfect life, loving husband, nice house, two kids, cars, and all that. It turns out she's unhappy with the way she looks, even though there is absolutely nothing wrong with her in the slightest, and she wants to get out more and wishes she'd travelled more.

Another of my friends hasn't been married long, again she's got a loving husband and everything going for her, yet she's miserable and feels like she's stuck in a rut that she has no idea how to get out of.

I look at these two and from the outside I'd say they have everything - specifically because they have love. But it turns out that they think I'm the lucky one because I'm free to do what I want.

Daft really, I'd give anything to find someone that loves me as much as I love them, mainly because this has never happened for me, and I'm beginning to wonder if it ever will. Whereas they'd give anything to be able to have the single freedom that I do.

Who said the grass was greener on the other side?

Gets you thinking really, are we ever truly happy?

Decisions!

I think I might be floundering somewhat. In fact, there's no 'think' about it, I am. Opinions and suggestions very greatly received.

I don't know what the hell I'm doing, or what I'm going to do, and it's driving me insane. See, I've never been one of those annoying people that find it easy to fly by the seat of their pants, just take it as it comes and go with the flow. I wish I could be, it seems that opportunities and good things seem to come more easily tothose people. No, I'm one of those sad, listing-making people, that like to know what they're doing, when, with who and what's going on. I don't cope well with 'maybe this, maybe that', I like to know what's what.

This is probably painting me as some obsessive control freak, but I'm not quite that bad, honest. I just like to have a rough idea of things. And right now, I have too many decisions to make, I'm scared I'm going to make the wrong one. I just don't know what to do about any of it. I don't think the impending third decade coming up in July is helping, I know it's not over the hill, but it feels like when you're in your 20's, you've got all the time in the world, I just don't know if I've really got the time to keep chopping and changing, delaying what I want and making mistakes.

Surely I should be settled by now? Everyone else seems to be. Or maybe they're not, maybe they're floundering just as much as me, but hide it better. Thing is, I'm not sure I want to settle, I want to live.

I think this is why I focus so much of my time on going away on holiday, it's like it's something to think about, something to plan, somewhere different and a break from not knowing what I want to do with my life.

I suppose that's a lie really, because I do know what I want to do with my life, I just don't think it's the right time to do it. This is where opinions would come in handy.

Ideally what do I want to do? I want to move to Turkey, specifically Marmaris. I want to live in the sun, drench myself in a different culture and change everything. I don't know if this would be a long-term thing, or whether it would be just for summer, but I want to do it, and I want to do it so very badly, it's quite hard to focus and settle on anything else.

Don't get me wrong, I want to do it now, if I could, I'd be on the next plane and I'd be getting seriously involved with setting myself up in a new direction, but I'm stuck because I owe and the sensible (boo!) thing is to sort that out and then go afterwards. It's not that long really, I mean it's three years. I have three years left on my loan and then I'm debt free, and free in more ways than one. If I go now, then yeah I can work out there to meet my monthly payments but I'll struggle with little for anything else and I'll have given up my secure, I suppose, fairly well paid, job, and come October, I'll be scrambling around for anything to get me through winter before the bank knocks on the door. All for six months in the sun. I might want it so very badly, but is it really sensible right now?

I'll do it, don't get me wrong, I AM going to do it, just as much as I want to go now and change everything, get myself out of this hidieously deep rut I've got myself into, will I just get myself into a deeper one, one that will set me back a hell of a lot longer than three years? Just for the sake of waiting for a while.

I suppose there's two ways to look at it - wait and do it properly, because I'm going to go anyway, or take the quite right view that life is far too short to put your life on hold and you should just live it. Whilst I agree with that view very whole-heartedly, I think you do have to be practical to a certain degree, don't you? It's easy to be all romantic about it, trust in life and know that someone will catch you, but the bank won't look at it that way, and they won't take pity on me when I'm desperately trying to find a job in October, that will probably be half as much as I'm earning now.

I just can't bear the thought of another year like the last one. I loved my holidays, I had three, and every second was fantastic, because I was somewhere else, and for some unknown reason, when I'm over there, I'm more confident, I'm more settled and I feel, weirdly, very much at home. I'm not sure anyone really understands, but I have a pull there that for the last four years, I haven't been able to shift, and nowhere else comes close. I've tried as well, I even went as far as Florida and Las Vegas, and yeah, I really, really enjoyed it, but I couldn't see myself there, not like Turkey. In fact, towards the end of our stay in Vegas, I found myself talking about suncream needs for the following June in Marmaris! I know, I'm weird.

It's not even about the boy. Not that it could be, because that's just a mess that a move isn't going to come close to sorting out. I was in love with the place long before I fell in love with him. No, this is about me, and my life, my future.

So if I wait, I'll be 32 when I can go and either move, or work for the summer. But that's alright isn't it?! I mean, Marmaris is full of all age groups, not like my town on a Saturday night, where if you're over 21 then you're seriously over the hill and very much feel it.

And if I wait, I'll go to Marmaris a few times this year, no doubt, so it won't be like I won't be going at all, just not for six months all at once. The thing is, I have interviews and I have assessment days lined up, that could quite easily come off and give me a serious decision to make, one that's even bigger than this one, because it won't be a 'what if', it'll be a 'do I, or don't I'. I've passed so many up in the past, because I've been impatient and put things in motion, but then realised that I had my head stuck in the clouds and I had to wait.

I'm so incredibly bored and so unfulfilled it's pathetic. Do you ever get the feeling that everyone else is happier or more fulfilled than you? I'm sure they're not, but I look around me and everyone else seems so sussed and sorted, and I'm the one they pat on the head and go 'awwww you just don't know what you want, do you?'. Well no, I don't.

So that's my rant for the day, I feel slightly better for getting it off my chest, but no nearer to deciding and setting on a plan. Flying by the seat of your pants must be so much easier .....