Day 153.

The time had come, where she had to make a decision. She had to decide whether to follow her head or her heart. After years of listening to her head she had fallen back to trusting her heart. It had all changed again. Her heart said one thing yet she couldn't believe it. She didn't believe it. It had hurt her before so how could she trust it again? 

*

As I'm sure you're all aware, I joined one of these fabulous dating sites in order to see what kind of menfolk there are around these parts. In all honesty, it has been lacklustre. The amount of strange, obscure men that roam Sussex appears to be a lot higher than the sane types I was hoping for. My initial plunge in to the site was originally for research purposes. A chance for me to really understand how they work, considering it had never been something I ever intended on doing. There have been some people, whom I have met, that have been lovely. Albeit a little mundane at times. The outcomes of these meetings have been piss poor if I'm honest. Largely due to my lack of interest in dating anyone and my overall dismissal of any form of relationship.

I've noticed, as time has gone on, my lack of commitment to the site. I, lately, have not given a shit, if truth be told. At first I was eager and keen to see what delights would be filling my inbox each day (not a euphemism) and I looked forward to seeing how many 'can I lick your feet' requests I would be bombarded with. Sadly, it appears, the menfolk are not so keen to lick my feet. Although I have been receiving some cracking messages of which I'd like to share.

The first came from a guy who really wasn't selling himself with his profile picture. Him sat on a toilet whilst wearing a morph suit. That's great! It's showing his fun side and how he likes to have a laugh. No. It's showing that you're odd or have the face of a train wreck. Women want to see what you look like in the same way you guys would want to see what we look like, when we are duck pouting and pushing our tits under our chins. His message was somewhat 'eye opening'. Dear reader, I must remind you that I have specifically noted in my 'about me' section that I do not like people merely saying 'Hey how are you? Good weekend?'

"Hey Han. You look well fit. Fancy meetin up sumtym?" 

Ahh there's nothing I love more than to be called Han by someone I don't know. It fills me with such an overwhelming sense of joy and fulfillment...Do not call me Han unless I know you. Even then it gets on my tits. My name is HANNAH! Sweet Lord. So, anyway, he calls me Han. Instant dismissal. He then goes on to use English in the most charasmatic way, I didn't know what to do with myself. Be still my beating ovaries. 

Of course, I didn't reply.

The next poor, unsuspecting victim to appear in this blog is a young-ish man who appears far too 'perfect' apart from I would never be attracted to him in a million years. The message read:

"Wow. Well, I don't know what to say really. You seem like a really interesting and genuine girl and your eyebrows are amazing. What do you blog about? Can you send me the link? Hope this message finds you well."

Now, here there isn't too much to complain about really. He has followed the criteria I have laid out for him, he has asked me about my blog, his English was acceptable. However, my eyebrows? Really? As in really, really? Why has no one told me how ugly I am if my eyebrows are my only defining feature? 

Sadly, there have been some men who have been, shall we say, persistent. The ones who repeatedly message with different variations of 'hi', 'oi', 'you're fit'. (I wrote 'you're' correctly because even when copying it, it infuriates me.) These poor menfolk have had to receive the brunt of my irritable mood. The mood in which I actually reply to their boring messages in order to see whether they can gauge my sarcasm. This one, that I am about to show you, clearly didn't understand.

Him-"Hey babe. How are you? How was your weekend?"

Me- "Wow, what a fascinating and thoughtful message that was. I'm astounded by your level of enthusiasm and interest."

Him- "Aww thanks babe. So you fancy meeting?"

 Baffling.

I would like to end on a message I received this morning from a guy who is clearly unaware of how to do the original 'Myspace' photo effect. It's all about the angles darling.

Him- " Hey! I fancy a chat :-) x"

Me- "I'm very pleased for you."

He had no chance the poor sod. I don't really understand why he had to declare his need for a chat. Why didn't he just start a chat? Obviously he wouldn't have got anywhere but how bloody awkward is it starting a conversation with suggesting a conversation. Dear me.

Perhaps it's just me. Am I being too fussy? Are women really being wooed by these stallions? Are these menfolk really getting any from being so dull? Either way, I'm happy out of it. I will continue with my site research. After all, these messages are far too entertaining for me to not read. 

Dating is a pain. Relationships are a pain. Being single is a pain. My logic is to now be all three of those and maybe the pains will cancel each other out...

Hannah xox