Things that didn't exist last time I was single...

So, this is just how much the world has changed since the last time I was single.

When I was last single (in 1996) the following didn't exist:

1. This millennium.
2. Wireless internet. In fact back then nobody had the internet at home and we wrote letters to people. With addresses and stamps and everything.
3. Hair straighteners. Back in 1996 frizzy hair didn't exist. Or at least it did but it didn't lead to social pariah status or the requirement to buy hair products that repel the weather (imaginary conversation - the rain to humidity: "Christ, she's wearing John Frieda conditioner, that's disgusting ... let's scarper")
4. The idea that leaving home without your mobile was completely normal. I doubt I had texted in 1996. What on earth did I do on buses?
5. Facebook. I'm not adding Bebo to the list as I assume none of my readers have ever had a Bebo. And if they do I'll crap myself as it probably means my blog has been tracked down by one of the kids I teach and my life is now no longer worth living...
6. Big Brother (Endemol version, rather than Orwell's. I'm not that old)
7. Cillit Bang
8. My belly, as back in 1996 I had a midriff. And it was on display. A lot. I remember once spending a lot of time at a Sleeper gig pointing out that my friends and I had concave stomachs compared to Louise Wiener's convex one. Lord, I was a cow. But a skinny cow.
9. Wikipedia. Can you imagine a world where you can't find out at 3am what the Latin name for a camel is? Or who invented the umbrella? A truly frightening concept. (and yes, I am going to post this blog and then find out the answer to BOTH those questions - if Wikipedia doesn't know I'm really not going to sleep well fretting about it...)
10. My son

I bet a chill wind has blown over you at the very idea that only a decade ago you heedlessly and wantonly went places with crinkly hair; you didn't text your friend that you were on the way, and (heaven forfend!) you didn't post the photographic evidence of it on Facebook afterwards. Good thing too probably because this was the 90s and you would have been wearing a lumberjack shirt (damn you Nirvana), eyebrows bushier than the Chelsea Flower Show's herbaceous border and lots of red lipstick.

Listing all that has proven to me how well I adapted over the years to change and I'll adapt well again. I just wish I could trade my belly for my 90s midriff.


P.s. I'd love any visitors to join this game: post a comment listing something that didn't exist ten years ago (you can do it anonymously, y'know)

Move on? There's nobody to see here.

Last night my ex told me that I needed to 'move on' which sounds to me like I'm some sort of rubbernecker at a gruesome car crash. Which in a sense I am ('Move on please Madame, there's nothing to see in the wreck of your marriage'). What he really meant was 'Please could you meet someone else to assuage my guilt about my new girlfiriend'.

So, is there any issue with this? Well, one at least. The majority of people meet their significant others in the workplace. I met my ex in my last career. What's the problem with me doing the same now? The problem is my school's recruitment policy...

Every job advert and specification sets out the criteria for the successful applicant: they must be an excellent classroom teacher with vision and a commitment to children's learning. In reality there is a secret paragraph not visible to the naked idea which says: "the successful candidate will be a single woman in her early twenties. She will be under eight stone and have sleek shiny hair. A Top Shop account card will be an advantage". If you go into the staffroom it's like a casting for 'Hollyoaks'. This does not provide a useful pool for potential boyfriends. Frankly, it would be like going to a singles night held specifically for people who want to meet Serbo-Croat speaking paraplegics with an interest in tractors. It's a bit too specialist.

We're in the middle of recruiting next September's crew of staff. We had a vacancy for a Maths teacher and I perked up immensely as I've always considered this to be the most likely equation:

maths vacancy + interviewee = possible single late 30's male

Who was the only external candidate? A pretty young woman, blonde haired and about 25. Sigh.

Move on? There's nobody to see here.

Uplifts and downturns..

With apologies to any gentlemen who may have stumbled upon these pages the next few lines are about undergarments, in fact this post is going to be about bras and control pants but this will be a metaphor for a much larger and more important issue; therefore you are excused any blushes as it is figurative rather than about my figure...

So, today I took a step that all recently single woman have to take. I went to Bravissimo. I had inspected my underwear drawer and, frankly, all my bras have been washed so many times that I have no idea what colour they used to be. Also, they only 'fit' as such because they hang off my shoulders and fasten, but beyond that Gok Wan, Trinny, Susannah and that frightening android woman off '10 Years Younger' would have ridiculed them for at least a 1/3 of a programme. A lovely Mumsy lady in Bravissimo reassessed and reviewed, changed 36C to, erm, 34F and sent me off uplifted in all the ways a lady can be.

All good thus far but when and where did the downturn occur? In Debenhams, inevitably. I was in there to buy the final item all single women require. Industrially reinforced control pants which could contain and/or repel a host of charging wildebeest. I struggled into a number of unsightly and unfeasible garments until I found a pair that looked like cycling shorts redesigned by a colour-blind and quite sadistic surgeon (surely NOBODY has skin THAT colour). They looked dreadful but did kind things to my figure when re-clothed, so, proud of myself I headed to the checkout.

Since Christmas I have had a £50 Debenhams giftcard tucked in my purse. It was, and will remain, the last Christmas present ever given to me by my ex-husband. For four months I've looked round Debenhams plotting the opportunity to spend it but saving it up for a big treat - after all, he owes me one. I handed it over to the cashier who swiped it, instead of ringing up a sale it made a 'beep' noise, she then punched in the bar code numbers, beep again. She did that rubbing thing that shops do with cards. Beep again. It had been declined. In front of the cashier (who was giving me a 'you obviously nicked it' look) I rang the helpline which announced that it had never been activated. I had to leave without the concrete pants and with a smidgen less pride.

In case you have missed the metaphor I will spell it out (like the good English teacher I am). The bra represents moving onwards and upwards; the control pants the reverses that can come at the single woman from nowhere. But what will I see when I look in the mirror? my new uplifted decolletage which will block all unslightly views of my tummy. Well done me.

http://www.bravissimo.com/adcampaign/TvAd2007.aspx

A new start for this blog and for me

So, when I set up this blog in December 2007 I didn't really have anything to write about, but I did know that I wanted to write something. This, it turns out, was unwise. Because by the end of the year my husband had decided to have an affair with another woman and move out into a sad-Smiths-inspired-navel-gazing-bedsit leaving me a single mother. So then I had loads to write about.

Unfortunately, all the really juicy stuff, the mad-Wuthering-Heights-loony-tunes stuff went by throughout January and February and I was far too potty to write anything lucid. This is a shame because it might well have made compelling reading as I was madder than any bag of frogs you'd wish to point at. I have tried to remember some of my more mad moments for general consumption but it appears that my psyche cleverly wiped it all away before I became a proper nutter. I know I was mad in January, I just can't remember anything about it.

But now I'm making a new start and that's what this blog is going to be about. I've begged my ex to come back, promised all sorts of changes and his general response was to ask me to sell the house and give him some money so he could 'start again'. Nice. Well, there's a credit crunch and a recession brewing so I'm clinging on to the house and he can't divorce me for 5 years because I did nothing wrong. So there.

So, back to new starts:

1. I threw away all the clutter in the house over Easter. Partly feng-shui, partly embarrassment at the state, mostly revenge.
2. I got a cleaner. Well two actually. Carol'n'Lisa. My ex: "I don't really approve of cleaning services", me: "well, I don't really approve of adultery". Thursdays are wonderful, I come home from work and it's like really clean burglars have come in and nicked all the debris.
3. I've started to do things with my beautiful son that I never did before because my ex wouldn't have approved. Today we went bowling and then we did crazy golf in UV light. Yes, you read that right, crazy golf + UV light. Marvellous.
4. I bought dresses and HEELS (after ten years of being with a man shorter than I it felt indecent to put on heels. But good).
5. I stalk his new girlfriend via Facebook*
6. Tomorrow, I'm booked into Bravissimo.

Aren't I doing well? There's more to do: I've joined Guardian Soulmates but can't bring myself to 'add' anyone, I still wear my wedding and engagement ring and I've looked at Gingerbread's website (the charity for lone parents) but I haven't joined yet.

My new road is just opening in front of me and I'd be immensely touched if anyone followed it with me via the pages of this blog.

*OK, this isn't good as such, but it is immensely enjoyable and rewarding....