Image from Match.com

Ah, online dating. I'm still giving it a go, only these days with even less enthusiasm than before. Partly, it's a matter of timing; I quite like my life as it is as I'm happy with work, still working on making home better and love to spend all my free time with either friends or family. Men don't really stand a chance, even if they wanted to. But, in the interests of an interesting life and not winding up a spinster (apparently, that's bad), I'm still logging on every so often to see if Mr Right has shown up on my little world web of dating. 

Well, it seems he hasn't. Not only am I recognising too many Mr Wrongs in the searches (been on there so long it's getting a bit stale) but I've joined another site - this time a free one, God help me - and instead of being wooed and flirted with by endlessly charming blokes, I feel like I'm being told off every time I click. Seriously, at the moment I'd rather go to the dentist right now than go online and find out what I'm being yelled at for this time...

No sooner had I finished setting up my profile on a free (but not POF, give me some credit) site than I had a message from a guy telling me off for pointing out I wanted a tall man. You have to say why potential daters should message you, so I decided, seeing as I'd been unlucky in love-with-my-type so far, to be honest about what I'm after but attempt to do so with a little wit. Perhaps I failed. All I wrote was that if you're 'tall, witty and beard-less (no offence, bearded ones) then get in touch' etc etc. But angry gentleman said that I should apologise for causing offence to short men, since it's something they can't change, unlike a beard which they can; apparently, requesting a tall man is much like saying I'll only date someone white. 

A tall issue 

WELL. While I'd hate to offend anyone who is short, surely it's all relative. Most girls consider 5'10  a tall man - but the problem is, that's MY height. So I need a really, really tall man in order to feel even slightly comfortable. And perhaps it's unfair of me to rule out dating someone shorter than me, but why waste time lying? And how many men out there look at a profile of a girl over 5'9" and actually get in touch if they're not pushing 6 foot? As a girl it sucks to feel like a big fat giant, and that's what you feel like whenever you're with someone who is a lot smaller than you. It's not feminine, it knocks confidence and I don't think I know one woman who would be happy seeing a man who is shorter than her. The only difference is, all those mates are quite short themselves so it's not a problem, whereas I'm probably ruling out about 80% of guys. Thanks, Mother Nature.

To beard or not to beard 

What's more, my point about beards was not to be nasty, but an attempt to convey my type. Hairy bearded men, who tend, I find, to be of the skinny-jeans-wearing variety more often than not - yes I'm generalising - are not my type. That's not to say they're not wonderful, or attractive, or whatever - they're just not for me. And isn't that kind of what online dating is about? How, when there are thousands of people online searching for the One, are we meant to whittle it down to said One if we can't even state what we're looking for?

Anyway. I told him in no uncertain terms that he was wrong, I didn't mean to cause offence and that stating a preference for height is not the same as race, because that would make me a racist moron. He soon shut up. 

Nowhere to hide

Next, I get a few men who are all watching my activity like a hawk. Been online but not replied to their message yet? In pops another one questioning what's taking so long. Looked at their profile but not rated them back yet? In comes a sarcastic message telling you yes it was them who emailed you and are you going to bother getting back to them now? 

I might be slow at getting back to guys online, and yes I am doing it half-heartedly at the moment which is totally my fault. But chasing me with snide comments and expecting an instant response is not really the way to pique my interest. 

It all feels like a hassle, and one I could do without - this should be fun, exciting, a bit scary but ultimately nothing to get too serious about else what's the point? I'm starting to dread the emails and given that I've not spotted anyone I actually want to email back, I might just ditch the whole thing...

Yes, I'm giving it a second chance. Last time I went online I basically hid from anyone who said hello and deemed them all to be nutters, quickly closing my profile as soon as someone asked me out. Let's just say I wasn't ready. 

This time, I'm actually starting to enjoy it, and might even have a date lined up - no promises - but the best bit so far has been the funny stuff. I'm not going to be too mean about profiles (I'm sure mine's terrible), but I have learned a thing or two from the few odd messages and people I have come across, so I thought they were worth sharing. I'm helpful like that...

1. Lots of men either a) don't know how old they are b) could really do with some hair dye and Botox or c) lie about their age. There is no way a 30 year old can look that old, surely?

2. There is such a thing as a bat charity. Who knew? There might even be more than one. All I know is that a man works there. He looks scary and messages girls who aren't interested (me). We shall call him Batman. Not so much a Black Knight in shining armour as a daylight-dodging creep.

3. There are a lot of single men out there who think that being active and going skiing once a year makes them adventurous and cultured. They even try to make their usernames sound adventurous, like ActiveJoe or MountainBoy.

4. The same men think that sitting down is bad and boring, even if it involves watching a good film or reading. If they're not sliding around on snow, or skateboarding, or running a marathon, they're not even living. Us indoor types should be ashamed. 

5. Some men can't read, and so even if you specifically say that height is important, they will still email you despite being five inches shorter than you.

6. Men often have one message that they copy and paste to different girls (yes, this actually happened - Facebook reveals all). It is generally a bit of a creepy one.

7. Men, for their profile picture, either put one of a) looking to the left/upwards in a thoughtful, super cool manner b) pulling a goofy face that is in no way flattering or c) one that could easily be a passport photo (and we all know those never look good). They then add gallery pictures which look like a completely different person, usually in a group of friends or with a pretty girl who you instantly think is their (hopefully ex) girlfriend. Cynic, me?

8. Men only want to meet confident, pretty, outgoing, super positive glass-half-full girls. Therefore they will probably wind up disappointed, because this is the real world and you can't smile 24/7, it gives you jaw-ache. 

9. It is a bloody small world. No matter how wide, or how narrow, you cast your little net, there is a very good chance someone from your hometown will message you, or you'll browse and discover someone you know from Twitter. Hopefully by accident though, otherwise that's just creepy (and a total waste of money). 

10. Online dating is just like offline dating. There's game playing, a sudden lack of interest for no apparent reason when you're mid-conversation and you'll always get chatted up by the odd weirdo. 

Still, I'm really quite enjoying it.

Men, are women just as bad when it comes to dating profiles? Anyone had any odd messages lately?  Tell me I'm not alone...

My mouth has got me into trouble quite a few times. From telling my sister when I was 8 that I saw a ghost in our room (sorry, not true) to saying a bit too much on what would otherwise have been the best date ever (still gutted, and pretty sure that’s the reason it ended there!), I tend to be a bit too honest for my own good. 

When I was little, I generally agreed with anything my sister said, even if it meant lying; but then I got older, realised I had an opinion and kind of lost sight of what was helpful and honest and what was just better left unsaid. I'm not talking just the little things, like whether or not you like the wooly jumper your nan got you for Christmas (a white lie never hurt anyone, as they say), but also the bigger things. Do you stand up for yourself if you think someone's done you wrong? Do you tell someone if you think they're wasting their time on someone or something? I seem to lack that filter of when to keep it buttoned and while I LOVE honesty in other people and see it as part of having a backbone, I'm not sure I should always spill the beans.

Recently I’ve either said too much to someone and regretted it (like round the dinner table this Christmas, telling my sister she’s blatantly the tougher, meaner one in her relationship – oops) or heard people moaning about in-laws or friends who just need to keep their thoughts to themselves, even if they do mean well. I’m glad it’s not just me that has honestitis, but at what point do you hold back? I seem to be surrounded by people with strong opinions, which I think is great (far better than an ignorant drip round the dinner table) but sometimes it seems no one wants to hear mine…

Whether it’s about babies (don’t do it like that), men (he’s clearly a prick), family (you’ve made the wrong decision), or work (that’s not how I’d do it), it’s really hard to get the balance right between getting your voice heard and giving good advice, and hurting someone’s feelings – or just making them plain angry.

When do you keep your lips sealed and when do you speak up?

As a 5'10 singleton in London, I've got my work cut out for me when it comes to meeting a man. Well, not men in general obviously, just ones I'd like to date. London is notoriously a difficult place to find love anyway because we're all far too busy running around working stupid hours, commuting on sweaty trains (so sexy, we Londoners) and then moaning about both over much-needed but massively overpriced cocktails (while checking our BlackBerries).

Add on top of that that I can see over the top of most men's heads, and it's near impossible to find someone to date in this silly city of suits. Or even just to find a guy to talk to without being able to check out their bald patches as they speak to my chest. 

On the rare occasion that a man attempts to chat me up, the first deal breaker (or of course maker) is height. If he's not taller than me - even by a couple of millimetres, I'm not asking for a giant here - then it's an instant no (in my head - out loud I am far more polite, honest). 

A few friends have given me a disapproving lecture for my slightly heightist ways, but given that they are all 5'6 or under and petite size eights (aka pint sized), they really have no idea. And given that they have all said they 'think it's great to be tall, but wouldn't want to be tall', they probably shouldn't be judging.

I'm not saying short men aren't datable - after all, to a shorter girl, a short man is tall, right? They're just not for me. I don't want to feel 'big', in any sense of the word - around the man I fancy I want to feel cute and feminine and like I can depend on him to give me a decent hug, not to be an armrest. I think that's fair...

What are your dating deal breakers and makers, or aren't you fussy? (I mean that in a nice way).

I love romantic comedies. They continue along Disney's path of lulling us into a false sense of reality, making us think that some day, we'll all meet Mr or Mrs Perfect, Prince or Princess Charming, and all will be wonderful and happy-ever-after-ish. Sometimes it's what you need, whether it's to pretend Matthew McConaughey is going to knock on your door one day or simply to perv over Angelina Jolie. A good rom-com can cheer you up, inspire you to write, help you to remember the happy times with an ex, or simply give you an excuse not to do the laundry you've been putting off. 

I may have skipped a few of the 30 Day Blog Challenges since some were for things I do all the time, but I liked this one since I've been addicted to looking at Blogger stats every single day of late. I'm amazed that I get traffic at all, let alone people from all over the world (I appear to attract the Russians, weirdly), so thanks for reading! 

As one of these bloggers who can't choose a subject and therefore writes about all sorts, it's interesting to see what people read more and comment on. In honour of today's challenge and to share what content gets the most hits, here are my top five blogs:

I am surprised this is my most read post and reckon it may be because I left it in the top slider for so long... that or you're all just looking for inspiration for New Year's resolutions! Now that we're a quarter of the way through the year there will be an update on those shortly...

Given the number of tweets about the dire state of public transport in my feed every day I am not surprised this is number two. It even got me a contributor's position at Grumpy Young Women and was published on a transport blog... now, Boris, if you're reading - let's get it plastered all over the trains, yes? 

This one gets me a lot of SEO traffic so I'm not surprised it's in here - it's a topic that is continuously debated about. I still think internships are a great way to get into journalism and necessary, but there are limits. Just make sure you know yours!

Actually, the next three most popular are my X Factor posts but here's the one that came up top. I enjoyed these and can't wait for the next series to start... Saturday nights just haven't been the same since Take Me Out finished!

After the X Factor posts, this one about the very weird repetition of three boys' names in my love life was the next most popular. Luckily I am not alone, but still, when I do (rarely) look at online dating sites, there are four names (three plus the ex) I most definitely avoid...

So that's three personal or 'Just Judy' blogs, one dating (Single Scoop) blog and one review/TV blog. Interesting... what would you like to see more or less of? Do you think it's better to specialise in one subject?

The latest series of Take Me Out finished last week, and already Saturday nights seem dull. If it hadn't been for the fun of Earth Hour, our lights would have stayed on all night, completely uninterrupted. How very 2009. 

But fret not, for the show that brought us 'no likey, no lighty' has also given us something to take away - and that is some great dating advice. No, I do not mean get a tan, find a very short dress in the Lipsy sale and wear three pairs of false eyelashes - I mean learn from what a lot of those couples did wrong. Because let's face it, there were some shockers. It also sparked conversation with my friends who shared some of their dating dos and don'ts...

This one was awkward - the girl kept talking about the previous love of her life and how they should never have really broken up. Then the guy, who was rather lovely too, said that he found it weird to talk about exes on a first date. The girl did not take the hint. If you need to talk about your ex, you don't need to be taken out by anyone but your girlfriends (or guyfriends, if you're the guy who's hung up on Mrs Wrong). Sort your head out first.

This was even more cringeworthy than the first - a guy decided to describe his ideal woman, who was the complete opposite of the woman in front of him - and then said he wasn't sure why he'd picked her. She was probably thinking the same, love (why me? WHY me?! etc). I've had this once - not on a date, though I'd been looking forward to seeing a guy out that I'd met at new year, but when we saw each other all he could say was that he wasn't sure why he'd come along as he hated the bar. Needless to say, I wasn't impressed and didn't text him back...

Always a good one, this - remember what they're called, and repeat it in your head, constantly. Write it down if you have to. Just don't under any circumstances call them something else - especially if it's your ex's name. See point one!

If you're anything like me, you'll cringe when people make noises as they eat (I say cringe, I mean inwardly scream until it stops). The slightest slurp of a drink and my entire body tenses in disgust, and don't even get me started on chomping. Which is why I sympathised (and laughed) when my friend told me the deal-breaker for a recent first date - the guy was sucking the chocolate off their Maltesers, LOUDLY - in the cinema, and it was all she could hear during the quiet scenes. Nothing would put me off my Matt Damon viewing more than hearing someone abuse Maltesers in public. Just don't. 

Easier said than done when nerves are involved, but I think the lights were left on and the sparks were flying a lot more on Take Me Out when the daters had a giggle, got to know each other while having fun in the sun (good ol' Fernando's) and didn't take things too seriously. Whatever you do on your first date, just relax - and 'Let the bees see the knees' as Paddy might say...

What have been your first-date no-nos?

This post is part of the 30 Day Blogging Challenge series - see all posts in the challenge here! 

Since I was thrown back into singledom I have learned a few things; how to build a flatpack desk all by myself, how to cook lasagne properly (we used to get the ready meal version), and more recently, how we single girls just can't get it right no matter how we're feeling. Someone is always there to question us.

I did the heartbreak, the anger, the throwing myself into another 'relationship'... I did it all, and my friends saw me through it for which I am eternally grateful. But now, now that I am for the most part enjoying being my own person in my single little life, I go through phases of not wanting anyone to come and mix it up followed by phases of wanting a man in my life - but no matter which phase I'm in, someone has to put in their two cents and tell me I'm doing it all wrong.

I know they don't mean to - it's usually my friends that put their foot in it so I know they wouldn't try to make me feel rubbish intentionally - but really, must my love life be commented on just because I am single? I don't meet up with my attached friends and tell them what they're doing wrong in their relationships, so unless I'm asking you what I'm doing wrong (I tend not to ask that, unless there is a lot of wine involved and it's with my best friend who feels the same) I'd prefer a little support rather than all the questions or jibes. Pretty please.

Recently, out in a bar, I made a half-joke that they should have a door policy where they just let in single people who are all over a certain height (I'm talking men, here) so that the likelihood of being chatted up by someone with potential was heightened. I may not have put it quite like that - a bottle of Pinot Grigio had mysteriously been consumed by this point, but it was along those lines. Instant reaction from my (also single but far better at dating) friend - 'Wow, desperate much?'. Ouch. And this just to a joke about wanting to chat to a decent man for a few hours. 

So if I want to find a man and I talk about it, I'm desperate; the lovely Mullies' column over on Cosmo summed that up perfectly, complete with all the cliches I am sick of hearing. No, it won't happen when I least expect it, because to be honest my expectations have been pretty low, or non existent since the last guy I saw and nothing has cropped up thus far. But on the flip side whenever I am more nonchalant about it, and mention that actually I am quite content being single and am not really looking for anything, I get asked why? Why do you not want a boyfriend? What's wrong? 

I was asked this by a very annoying tourist in Zebranos once. His mate had bought my mate a drink so he thought that entitled him to hassle me, while I politely sipped my own drink and prayed he'd disappear. The conversation went something like this after he asked, with a smirk, if I was single:

'Yes.'

'Why are you single?'

'Well, I just am, why is anyone?'

'So, do you want a boyfriend then?'

'No, not right now.'

'But why not? Every girl wants a boyfriend, don't they. I could be a good boyfriend.'

I gulp my wine and tell him I'm off to get another drink.

If it's not random men in bars who won't get the hint that they are pushing ancient on the age scale and could really do with reigning in that pervy tongue, it's friends who just don't understand how I could not be desperate (there's that word again) to get back into a relationship. 'How's your love life?' they ask, as if everybody has to have a love life. 'Why not try online dating?' 'You need to just get out there',  etc etc. I simply can't get it right.

As seen in my recent blog posts, there are pros to being single and cons to the lonely life. Everyone knows that, even those of you who live in perfect pairdom. Sometimes I crave having someone to come home to and snuggle with, and other times I feel secretly lucky to be so independent. But if I am telling you I wish a bar were full of eligible men just for me, don't call me desperate. Pay me a compliment to make me feel better. Or if I am telling you I'd rather be a nun than have a man in my life, don't jump in with the cliches - just let me be right, for once. After all, I don't have anyone else to win arguments with...

Having recently dipped my toe back into the rather cool - icy even - pool of internet dating, I found myself wondering whether this now common way of finding a date is turning us into more critical singletons, with expectations that are far too high. 

With shows like Take Me Out getting me fired up (just check the Twitter feed - sorry to my dear followers), about both the men and women on it, it's all too easy to dismiss someone almost instantaneously because of a less than perfect first impression. Not as tall as you'd like? Lights out.  Lives with his mum? Blackout. Dresses his puppy in little outfits? Bit weird. Likes to dress as a woman and sing? Well, that might be pushing it. 

Back in the day (and this isn't even that far back, for me anyway), you used to see someone, get to know someone and see where it went. Now, in a dating world where it's harder to find a date and anyone and everyone is online in some shape or form, we're getting snappier and stricter with our judgements. And it's not just that we can find them online - even after a first date we can Google them, Facebook stalk them, find them on Twitter or on their blog and see what makes them tick before making a decision, without so much as sending them a message to say thanks for the drink.

With this immediate approval or disapproval in mind, we online daters seem to be looking for Mr or Mrs Perfect - and nothing less will do. I'm hardly in a position to be fussy, that much is clear - and I'm trying to be quite open minded online, putting age differences and usual type aside when browsing. But flicking through some profiles on a site recently left me feeling really rather inadequate (and then, when my senses kicked in, just disappointed) because I wasn't sure I could meet the 'would like to meet' criteria of most of these men. Are we so used to getting the right stuff in just a few clicks that we expect dating to be the same? The top profile put-offs for me so far have been:

So guys, (and girls) - can I make a suggestion? Rather than describe in detail the absolute ideal of the person you are looking for, perhaps make it a little more open to, you know, real people. Cheryl Cole (or enter perfect woman/man here) isn't going to be looking for you on there, but the One might be - don't make them click off in the first second just because they're scared of heights or not a fan of Indian food. You at least want them to be interested enough for them to try and Google you...

OK, so despite my last post things aren't all rosy in the singles camp. They can be a little prickly at times. While I am enjoying my arguments-less, toilet-seat-down freedom, there are a few cons to balance out the pros of being all alone...

 

This one is in both lists because let's face it, even though it's irrelevant rubbish when you're single it can become dull to be the grumpy unattached one who cries out that Clinton's simply invented it to make money out of us all for the first thirteen days of February. Most of those in a relationship can look forward to a guaranteed night of attempted romance, a present, some alcohol and maybe even an engagement. Will he, won't he, ooh the excitement. (He probably won't. It would be a bit uninventive to put it in your dessert at TGI Fridays). 

2. Manly Jobs
Get your minds out of the gutter, I am talking DIY. Around the house. I live in a house with very high ceilings and I do not own a ladder, nor do I want to for heights are not my strong point. This means changing a lightbulb when one of our spotlights goes bang is basically impossible and I have to live in the dark(ish). A man would find some way to sort it out I'm sure - that's his job*. He would also put manly things in my man drawer (Michael McIntyre reference, look it up), and generally be my DIY hero for anything I couldn't manage. (I say this, having built my very own *cough* flat pack *cough* desk, thank you very much). 

*Promise I'm not sexist... I swear boys like to play with tools. And lightbulbs. 

Probably the single reason that could sway me away from liking being single is the lack of hugs going around. There are two people that give amazing hugs: my mum, and my (currently non existent) man. I don't see my mum anywhere near enough since evil National Rail and co keep boosting train prices so much that I struggle to even go back home once a month. Friends give hugs but they are always a quick hello or goodbye - but for the ones I miss, I'm talking about the kind of wrapping-you-up, not letting go for a good half hour type of hug. I miss those. 

I would like a weekend boyfriend. I pretty much had that when doing the long-distance thing and it suited me quite well - too busy in the week for anything but work and sleep, and then lots of spare time at the weekend that needed filling with fun, hugs and getting to know someone better. These days my weekends tend to see me exhausted trying to be creative while also trying to remember how to relax, but really it would be quite nice to have someone to get a Sunday roast with or to watch films all day with... sigh. 

As we saw from my rant about turning a QUARTER OF A CENTURY OLD (I'm not over it yet), being single at 25 wasn't in my plan. Just a few years ago I was thinking about how I would decorate the flat that me and my now ex would buy together one day. Silly, silly me. While that plan is well and truly de-planned (a good thing), a lot of my friends are looking to buy houses, looking at rings in jewellery shop windows, looking at baby scans... and well, they're all settling down a bit. Which makes me feel a little odd, since in my head I could easily still be 18 and the thought of settling down scares the bejesus out of me, because all I want is someone to travel with and to still party with the girls on a Saturday night. It would be nice to have a new plan forming though, or at least some unplanned fun which shows a glimmer of possibility of a plan later on. You know, before I turn 30. Which is just five years away *gulp*...

I'm sure I've missed out a whole load of romantic stuff but let's not depress ourselves, shall we? I still stand by my pros of being single and at the moment, aside from a dark bathroom (seriously, anyone got a ladder they fancy using?) I am pretty happy. Most of the time...

What's that you say? There are good things to be said about singledom? Why yes, I believe there are. Not having a Match.com-advert-like life is actually not the worst thing in the world (it's brilliant, in fact, since I despise those ads). Romance is great, but relationships? Not so much, not always anyway. Just in time for that ridiculous date in the diary that we like to call Valentine's Day and circle with a red heart, I thought I'd put together a little list of things to be grateful for, all thanks to being happily single. And no, it doesn't mean I fail at life, hate couples, am gay or an angry feminist - I just quite like the freedom of being free.

I'm not saying all you gorgeous loved-up people have it bad - we all know you're pretty happy and we're happy for you. (There will, for balance, be a follow up blog on the cons of all this fancy-freedom).

The obvious one to start with - we singles are free from the pain of Valentine's Day. The overpriced cards, the overpriced presents which we have to buy at the last minute because the sweet little handcrafted gift didn't turn out so well, the pressure of finding something to do together that isn't just a meal in Pizza Express. With a coupon. Ahhh, bliss. This Valentine's Day is a Monday too so I don't even have to find a single-but-still-doing-something alternative. Amazing. Thank you, calendar.

2. Money

Closely connected to numero uno but definitely a point (or ten) in its own right is the money, honey. The money I earn goes on me (well, rent), my friends (read: wine with friends), family and nobody else. When I take a little trip to Matalan, I can skip the men's section. I tend to skip the women's section too and head straight for the home bit, but that is not the point. I used to spend a fortune when I was non-single - trips across the UK because of long distance fun, expensive presents, little presents, underwear, cinema trips, petrol, the list went on. Now Christmas is easy because I just spoil my family and I no longer think it's acceptable to go into my overdraft just to travel across the UK for a kiss.

You can have nights out with your friends when you're not single. (No really, you can). But some ladies don't understand that you can also leave the man at home, or that you can put your phone in your bag and he shouldn't mind too much that you haven't updated him about how busy the bar is and what your outrageously drunk friend is up to. Most of my friends are great at enjoying themselves when their other halves are at home or likewise out with the boys, but you can always spot one girl in the room who's got her Blackberry out (fine, iPhone, cool kids) or the one who is stood next to her guy because he had nothing to do and decided to tag along, but is now bored because dancing isn't his thing. My nights out are spent catching up with best friends, laughing as much as possible and dressing to impress - and I will keep that up even when/if I'm not in singlesville. (I do have some great friends though whose other halves are as much fun as they are on a girls' night out - so I hope my next man is one of those, please).

I didn't have too many of these back in the day thankfully, but when we did argue I hated it. I hate confrontation so tended to go quiet and stare at my phone wondering why it wasn't beeping with apologies. I don't miss the disagreements, the questioning of feelings, the second-guessing what the other was thinking - obviously, that relationship ended so clearly wasn't right, but I'm sure every relationship has its little quibbles. These days, the only arguments I have are with the adverts I hate on TV (here comes Match again) and the amount of calories in a Pop Tart. I win every time.

No, not Myspace. My space. Though Facebook probably features in here too, thanks to the lack of relationship status updates, stalking and anguish over why he hasn't put up that lovely photo of you both as his profile picture (this is a general point, not about me, promise). As a detached damsel not-in-distress, I get to do what I want, make a mess of my room if I want (actually, I prefer not to), do my makeup if I feel like it, stay in my perfectly acceptable non-silky pyjamas on a Sunday if I want to and generally have my own space whenever I need it. Wash his smelly socks and give up my bathroom? No thank you. 

Ok, there are plenty of downsides to being back in the world of dating - but while I have a think about those, what have I missed from the sunny side up? 

So. I am freaking out a little that I am 25. Twenty five. Twenty. Five. I have no idea where the last five years went, and I would quite like to have them back so I can do things differently. I know that's not productive, but if I'm already regretting the past half decade, what on earth will I be feeling in five measly years' time when I am thirty and looking back at my twenties? That is what is keeping me awake at night... literally, since I am starting to write this at 2:21am. I'm so worried that in five years I will be saying the same thing, that now the pressure is well and truly on for me to do something about it.

Last weekend I watched three films - ah, the benefits of being single - Step Up 3, Romy and Michele's High School Reunion, and Sex and the City 2. Random choices, simply because they all showed up from Amazon and I can never wait to play with something new for long. Firstly, I did them in the wrong order, since SATC2 with all its heartbreak and crying and borderline racism depressed me just in time for bed (and blogging). Secondly, they all got me thinking, which is both good and bad.

Step Up 3 started me off on a good motivational foot, reminding me (apparently I need reminding) that I love dancing, exercise can make you feel good and I need to stop sitting on the sofa watching films and get up and move. Seeing as this is part of my new year get-me-healthy plan too, I looked into some dance classes, found a gem of a dance deal on Wahanda (where else?) and managed to rope in a couple of brilliant friends to come with me. It may not be booked yet, but it will happen. Streetdance here I come. The only bad thing about this is that I reckon in another life somewhere I am someone who has been dancing since they could walk, knew how happy it made them and chose it for life (and probably has a better figure too). I kind of wish I had done that - it would have made a good hobby, also a new year's resolution. But this will have to do, because it's a bit late for that...

Romy and Michele's High School Reunion is a brilliantly, hilariously perfect film, and if you haven't seen it then I suggest you get the girls around and watch it pronto. It is, obviously, about their ten year high school reunion and how they haven't achieved all that much since school, so they make it all up and go to try and show off. The problem with this, despite the tear-inducing comedy, is that it got me thinking about the past ten years of my life.  Uhoh.

Next year it will be ten years since I left school, which, along with the big two five and the fact that it's flown by, is absolutely terrifying. When I was younger, 25 seemed far far away; it was a year by which I would have got the job I always dreamed of, settled down with someone, bought a flat, maybe even got a ring on my finger or at least the potential for one. Probably a couple of cats in there too. As you grow up, 'that age' at which you think milestones might happen gets a little older as you realise how time has a habit of speeding up, but I didn't think I would get here and have absolutely none of the above.

It's quite earth-shattering to think that even if I move that age to 30, that only gives me five teeny tiny years to get there, and I wouldn't even know where to start. I'm not saying you have to have these things by this age or else you're a failure - we all know that people are getting married, having children later in life these days and the housing ladder is near impossible to find let alone get on; but I can't help remembering 12-year-old-me and her grand ideas of having her life sorted by the age of 26 - and I feel a little guilty that I didn't make it happen. It doesn't help that most of the people around me have managed it, sisters included (not all of the above but the ring-on-finger at least).

Which leads on to the Sex and the City 2 effect. Apart from thinking 'who the hell wrote this script?', Carrie's marriage problems combined with the slightly sickening but wonderful love between her and Big gave me the blues, just what you want before you slip off into your dreams. But I didn't know whether this was the blues because I am single and nowhere near that marriage ideal, despite many of my friends being well and truly at that stop; or whether it was because I really don't want all that messy relationship stuff (they are quite hostile and argumentative in the sequel... and in the original, come to think about it). Being single is great because I don't have to have those horrid arguments, the ones that turn your stomach and make you want to throw your phone across the room... but it's also rubbish because you don't get that 'I got you a black diamond because I know you so well' feeling, ever. Sigh. There is of course a happy ending, but that just left me wondering whether I would get one of those or whether I was going to be a Samantha (with less naughtiness, ahem) forever.

Never before has 'so much to do, so little time' been such a problem, and I'm not sure how to deal with it. Is it good to have plans, or do they just make us feel inadequate when they don't work out?

Sex and the City is brilliant, but I think they got the title all wrong (though I suppose theirs is more catchy). I've always been lucky to have some great friends around me. But moving to London for uni was tough to start with, as while a lot of my friends went to the same unis together, I was off on my own to a grotty area of south London that looked like the set of Crimewatch.

Five years on and obviously, I made a bunch of bloody brilliant friends at uni and am keeping them for life (shhh, don't tell them). And I also kept hold of another brilliant bunch from home, because they weren't getting rid of me that easily. But during that five years, I finished uni, was thrown back into singledom and everything changed.

When you're in a relationship you become so reliant on that one person or at least the knowledge that they are there if you need them, that you can lose sight of your friends and the fact that they are very much there too (apart from when he does something wrong and you go running straight to your mates for a moan).

So when suddenly you become single, it takes a while to train yourself into realising that though he's not there anymore, there are people you can reach out to. I couldn't have got through my break up without my best friends who were always at the end of the phone, in the next room or reading essay-long Facebook messages about how much it hurt. This is no easy job if you're the listener, especially if you have a few friends who have got the blues at the same time - not to mention your own problems - but the age old saying that men will come and go while friends are for life (or something like that!) is definitely true. It just takes time to get used to texting your best mate first when you feel sad, or when you have news - instead of calling the guy who's been on speed dial for four years.

Non-singles find it harder to understand, and I say this based on being one, once upon a time. I know so many people now (myself included) who find 'coupley' couples REALLY annoying... and yes, those people are all single. As soon as you're with someone, you tend to forget what it was like to be single, the feeling you'd get when someone told you something about your ex that you didn't want to hear, and what it was like to feel the odd one out because everyone else is loved up. Instead, you flaunt your new-found romance, casually mention something about your mate's ex without thinking, and smooch in public while your mates sit there feeling uncomfortable/jealous/lonely. 

My friends and I had this chat after a few bottles of wine and decided that for those of us who are single, we were all we had - none of us felt able to chat to our families about how lonely we sometimes felt, and with no boy to give us a hug we now need each other more than ever. So, to those of you who are living in singlesville - make your friends your priority. There's a reason Carrie had her best friends around her at all times.  And those of you in relationships - don't forget what it was like to be alone. Your one single friend might be in a room with a whole bunch of you, but they could be feeling completely isolated at the same time. Now, even if I do grow up to be a spinster with cats, at least I'll know I have friends who will listen, don't have four legs and can use a phone...

You know how you decide never to call your future child the same name as that girl in school who got pregnant aged 15, or the boy who was the class bully? Well, there's a lot in a name. Even if you don't have a great memory for names, you'll probably have connotations for certain names based on people you've met. 

I think the same applies to men and dating. If you've had a not-so-great relationship with someone called Dave, the idea of getting with another Dave might seem daunting. At least, that's what I feel about it. Every time I hear an ex's name I feel a little twinge of something, which I can't really explain other than being a memory of them which doesn't quite go away.

This happened recently when I wandered into online dating - I was emailing someone but I just couldn't get over the fact that he had the same name as someone else I'd dated, who I'd really rather forget. Then I realised - of all the guys I'd been interested in or met since the big break up (six in total), the same three names have come round twice. Isn't that a little bit odd? 

Turns out, not really. My friend has only dated Chris's (not on purpose, I might add) and another has a bit of a history with James's. But still, I think three names is quite specific and am wondering if it all means something or is pure crazy coincidence. 

So - how much is in a name? Was I right to avoid same-name guy in case he was as bad as the last or is it just complete fluke? And what names do you avoid? (I'm not telling you mine!).