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 was one of the hard workers at school. I was in top set for everything, I didn’t get anything below an A for any of my GCSEs, and I always got my homework in on time. Great, you might think. I must be really smart thanks to all those years of learning. Hey, I even have a degree – I must be super clever, right?

Well, wrong. I don’t feel smart. Because no matter what grades you get at school, they neglect to teach you about the fundamental things you will have to deal with in later life. In school we are repeatedly taught about osmosis. Henry VIII. Trigonometry. Now I don’t know about you, but I haven’t needed to work out the lengths of the sides of triangles since, ooh, year eleven, and while Henry VIII had a fascinating life that I’m sure could inspire a great horror movie, he has not helped me to understand how the country works and how to be a grown up. So, if the government happens to be reading – can you add these to the curriculum, please? It’s too late for me, but let’s give the kids a head start.

1.    Tax
The inspiration for this post and the most mind-numbingly painful task you will ever have to endure is completing a self assessment tax return. Oh. My. God. The deadline may be January 31st, but I only got mine sorted a few months later thanks to a system that makes no sense, appalling customer service and a complete lack of help available. After spending hours, and I mean hours, on the phone to people who should not be working for HMRC if their advice to me to pay two grand more than I owed ‘or else they’ll fine you’ is anything to go by, I eventually got through to someone who knew their job and told me what I needed to do in two seconds flat. Now, if school included a few lessons explaining how the tax system worked, I would not have a massive phone bill and raised blood pressure, and the tax office would have had their money much sooner. Smiles through gritted teeth all round.

2.    Politics
I used to be one of those people who thought, ‘I don’t do politics’. To me, it was boring, not relevant and far too complicated to understand. Then I grew up a little, went to uni and started to learn the basics about elections, parties and the way the media works to support them, and suddenly it became relevant. I also developed opinions of my own and left my conservative hometown behind. Don’t get me wrong, I still find it a little yawn-worthy and don’t know as much as I probably should – but I wish I knew more and that I’d been taught about how our country politically ticks along back in school. Even an explanation of how the voting system works would have been handy…

3.    Banking and money
Surely, surely this is something that they could squeeze into the curriculum. They could teach it in Maths along with Pythagoras and standard deviation. Just a few lessons on credit ratings, how to get a mortgage, pensions… money makes the world go round but no one tells you this stuff. A friend of mine is about to buy her first house and has been relaying the complicated saga of getting a mortgage, and I feel incredibly stupid just hearing about it – so I suppose it’s a good thing that I’ll probably never be able to get on the property ladder. But still, I’d like to know how it all works. I like learning.

I could go on – useful skills such as basic mechanics (my first car broke down a lot), IT (now that we live online) and maybe even a bit of plumbing (my boiler exploded a bit) would be more useful than learning about photosynthesis and sketching the physical changes to a potato when it’s kept in the dark (seriously, did I go to a stupid school?).  Plus, it would make the homework a lot more interesting. ‘Daddy, where are the keys to the car…?’


(And yes. That's me throwing my hat in the air.)

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...

I like to rant. Here's my first proper blog rant.

I am on a train for around 90 minutes in total each day. God that's depressing. It's not the best part of my day. It's a space in which getting a seat is a highlight, and something you feel a bit smug about even if it's only for five minutes - so hardly something to shout about. 

But, after yet another journey of suffering people who either have no manners, no sense or just no awareness of anything around them other than their nose, I thought it was worth blogging about. And so, without further ado: the Train Commandments. Please try and remember at least one of the points when you next board a train. Or, indeed, any form of transport where other human beings are present.

The Train Commandments

1. Thou shalt allow air into the train

I like air. Don't you? Nice fresh air that wakes you up a little, helps you breathe, you know the stuff. So why, oh dear commuter, must you sit there idly, in your privileged window seat, as we all roast in this cabin of heated hell? If the windows are steamy, it's not for drawing in - it's sweat and breath and goodness knows what else, so open a window. It won't bite. If there is not a single window open on your carriage, despite it being full of people sitting and standing in every space available, open a window. I don't care if it's raining. I don't care if it's snowing. You're probably wearing a coat. Man up and open it so that we don't all have to sweat and smell each other's breath - there's just no need to do that with strangers.

Are you sitting on the aisle side? Look at the seat next to you. Is it empty? Now look around the carriage. Is the train getting full? Are people standing? Are you approaching a station with a platform full of people? Here's a thought - don't keep an empty seat next to you for no reason. Someone will see it and they will climb over you to get to it. That will be awkward, they might even touch you a bit with their boot, and given that you like sitting next to empty seats that can't be good. Shuffle over to the window side (or the middle if you're in a row of three, there you go) and let someone sit down without having to negotiate the space between your feet and bags. Oh, and bags on a seat? Don't you dare. 

There's a reason kids are told to chew with their mouths closed. It's in the hope that they will remember it as they grow older and learn to eat like civilised human beings. None of us want to see that mashed up Maccy Ds in your mouth. More importantly, none of us want to hear you as you munch it, followed by a slurp of your drink, followed by more munching and loud exhaling through your nose. We don't want to see crumbs falling all over the seat. If you must eat food while travelling (we've all been there), at least get something that doesn't stink, doesn't make too much noise and that isn't messy. A Twitter friend had to sit on a train with a woman standing up, eating a Wasabi noodle soup. One can only imagine how sickening that carriage was, with its lack of windows open, full of people standing because the seats were filled by imaginary friends while she slurped on soup.

When you're standing on a train and need to pick up your suitcase/briefcase/Maccy Ds wrapper, remember: trains are quite small. People sitting down are at about waist height. If you then bend over, from your waist, to pick up said item, you are quite possibly going to thrust your backside into someone's face a little. This is bad etiquette. It is unnecessary. Simply bend at the knees and away you go, with no awkward encounters and probably no back problems because you really should lift with your knees, not your back. Those wrappers can be heavy. 

We all hate having coughs and colds and flu because we're British and we still have to go to work and make sure we infect everyone else. But when you're on a train, on your not so merry way to work, and that little tickle comes along - don't sneeze into your Metro. Don't cough into it. That is not a substitute for being polite. Use your elbow or hands to catch your grimey germs, or even better use a tissue. Or even better than that, stay at home. No one wants to touch your germy dribble while reading about the royal wedding. 

Train seats aren't luxurious, or wide, or particularly comfy, but they are a certain size. They are all the same size. Which means even if you are reading a newspaper next to someone who isn't, that does not give you the right to elbow them in the ribs as you do so. Nor does it give you the right to spread your paper across into their space. And if you do, you cannot then get mad that they begin to read it. In fact, they should probably be allowed to turn the page. 

Remember Funhouse? Well, in the final part of the game they had to wait for their team mate to come out of the funhouse before they could go in. Like a relay. Apply this logic to trains. Not only do you look like an impatient child when you shove your way past an old lady who is being slow at stepping off the train, but you are actually being stupid. The more people who get off the train, the more space there will be on the train. Let them get off, considering it's their stop after all, and when you step on there will be more seats to choose from. See? 

It's fine to have a phone conversation on a train. Really it is. But do you have to be so LOUD? We don't actually need to know that your best friend has annoyed you, or that you didn't get a pay rise. We're not going to sympathise as we are busy trying to breathe in this airless carriage while not slapping the guy digging his elbows into our ribs. At least try to talk a little quieter or keep it short - we'll know you tried, and we'll hate you less. 

It is unfair that you have to stand for part or all of your journey. We get that, we have been there. But We, the Seated, do not deserve to be suffocated by your coat. Or your bag. Or your scarf. Or your dreadlocks (seriously, this happened this morning, I felt quite pukey.) Remember that the aisle, like the seats, is a certain size, and while those people sitting down may look comfy, it doesn't mean they can handle having all the air, even the recycled air, taken away because you need to lean. This is no place for leaning. 

10. Thou shalt offer your seat to those who need it
A slightly more serious one to finish, but one that shouldn't even need to be said. No seats left and a pregnant woman gets on? Get up. No seats and some elderly people get on? Get up. No seats and a disabled person gets on? Get up. Just be nice - it's not hard. No one will think less of you, even in London. You might even get a smile out of someone - and that is something to shout about...

OK, my rant is over. That felt quite good. Did I miss anything? Train users, unite!