I know how you all love my post work out posts so here is another one for you. (god it’s been ages so you know I haven’t been working out!!)

3rd private session with my trainer and this time I managed to convince/ bribe/ mislead my sister to join me in what I described as a “fun filled session of stretching and basic movement”. Lies, lies, and more lies.

I just knew from the first 2 minutes of the trainer arriving that this session was gonna be fucking terrible. The fancy scales were brought out and BMI, bone density, fat levels, etc were taken for the two of us. You know when they start playing Darth Vader’s Imperial March a few moments before he appears? That’s how I felt about the exercise session that was about to start.

Within minutes of running on the spot and pushing my arms back and forth, I wanted to die and was closely resembling a tomato that had been out in the sun too long and fought a Germany beach goer for the last sun lounger in Benedorm!!!

About here I wanted to die. Minutes exercising .25 seconds!!!

The next 45 minutes involved me mostly using my stomach muscles (abs perhaps?) to prevent myself from vomiting all over my sister and trying really hard not to faint as I would have legit have to be taken out the window a la “Gilbert Grapes” mum!!!!

Water torture or water boarding would have been more fun than exercising.

When these thoughts entered my head, I thought maybe I should say something to the trainer but really couldn’t risk her answer being “if you have time to think, you aren’t working hard enough!!” So kept quiet…… Really quiet.

Time moves slower when you are exercising… Real slow. Like I swear I had seen my grandchildren graduate and elope (with totally inappropriate partners I may add) before this session ended. I swear I was marching on the spot for 90 years.

It finally ended and somehow between start and finish my legs had been replaced by jelly, my arms had fallen off and I felt like had gone a round with Mike Tyson.

Till next time

Arrogance. There is nothing more attractive. Arrogance combined with the certainty of the fact that you are “Gods gift” to women kind (sorry, human kind) are indeed the most attractive traits to any hot blooded young lady (I use “young” here dear Reader,as this is clearly the truthful part of the post. 😉 )

I lay awake at night dreaming that my Prince Charming will come along and teach me what 25% is. How to eat vegan food. Or expect me to pay for his dinner and drinks. One can only dream of such a catch.

Well ladies and gentlemen. I met the King of all men last night. Let’s call him the Rat King as he is an amalgam of every awful trait a person could have. (Side note. I am not responsible for you googling “Rat King”. I wouldn’t recommend it. But I’m also a sicko who couldn’t look away)

It was New Years Day. What’s that saying? The first day of the year sets the tone for the rest of it? Well this lady was ready. 2019 was going to be the year of all the boys after the unexpected and awkward pause when I attempted a relationship (not quite sure what I was thinking!!!).

I had been trying out a new app. It was a little exciting and new, but lacked the detail of my usual “go to” app. It also clearly lacked an “asshole” filter to weed out the megalomaniacs and omniscience men amongst us.

The Rat King and I hadn’t chatted much before hand in all honesty but he was a teacher, and grew up not far from where I went to uni. We had a bit of banter on WhatsApp and after-all it was the “holidays”, so I thought why not?

He turned up, and he was an absolute “lad”. I didn’t even know that polo T-shirt’s with the collars straight up were still a thing. He wanted to go to a british chain pub designed for the misguided, and unfortunate. What a shame there wasn’t one open nearby!!

We went to a youngish pub attached to a youth hostel (which I seem to be frequenting a lot recently on dates). The staff are friendly. Drinks cheap (but good), and atmosphere “homely” (but that might just be because it has basically become my second home now!!).

The Rat-king was from Scotland and was currently working in education. Now dear Reader. I have a lot of friends who work in education. A lot. They all seem to have similar traits. All caring. Patient. Empathetic. Nurturing. Etc. The Rat King was none of those things. He was a condescending wanker (a british term that perfectly sums up what a dick head this individual is).

He talked solidly for 60 minutes. 60 minutes!! And I’ll have you know, I’m not a quiet person…. at all.

It was just impossible to get a word in edgeways. Every time I started to talk, he came up with a new story, anecdote, or life lesson that I simply had to know. It just became a character study for me. How much can one person talk before he gets bored of hearing his own voice?

The answer is a lot.

It got to the point where I may as well not have been there. So I went to the bar and got another drink. He shouted a few “commands” at me and continued talking. I just stood at the bar flabbergasted and took a selfie of the mortification on my face (doing it for the gram people). The Rat King was talking at me so loudly from the other side of the room that the bar tender had to go up to him and ask if he was ok because he was disturbing other customers.

I bought him a larger. Hold the cyanide.

When I brought it back to the table, the conversation had now moved on, and he was mocking children that he teaches. Doing impressions of the kids at his school. And I just sat there. Wondering what happened to the start of the year that began so wonderfully.

It was when I started to put my cardigan on to leave. that The Rat King asked me my first question. “What do I do?”

This isn’t often an easy question to answer as I’m one of those annoying “multi hyphen” job people. I do a bit of everything. I had listed my first job “actress” and was told by the Rat King that it wasn’t a real job. That acting was only for famous people. How everyone calls themselves an “actor” (pronounced actooor) these days.

Me “ummmm ok”

Rat King “go on. Go on. What else do you do (dooooooo)?”

Me “I am a producer, blogger and Instagrammer”

RK “those aren’t real jobs!!! Just trying to be famous are you? What even is that?”

Me “well, it’s …..”

RK “all the kids in my class want to be “influencers”. It’s just made up crap. Like what even do you influence? Is just conning people. Being famous for the sake of famous. You don’t even deliver anything”

This continued for a further 45 minutes as I just sat there stupefied by this “man” insulting my entire career and life choices without knowing (or caring) about what I do!!

I just started putting my coat on in slow motion. He continued talking and talking faster and faster to get as many words out as possible.

It was during this little monologue that the conversation took a sick and twisted angle. I was clearly leaving and he realized he had lost his “audience” so he made a last minute desperate attempt to keep my attention. He started talking about how all the mums at his school want to “shag” him. How his colleagues won’t stop propositioning him. How he was God’s gift to womenkind. Etc etc. everyone wanted him (including the kids in his class) “but he didn’t fancy me anymore and wouldn’t even go down on me.”

Me “hahahaha. Go down on someone!!! You do realize that would mean you would have to stop talking?”

And I left the Rat King stupefied (and quiet for the first time all evening), walked past the bar, was given a high five by the barman, and then got the bouncers telephone number

So I have this thing where I build up people in my head and am often let down by the reality of them. It’s lead me to my new philosophy to meet up ASAP if we are getting along well.

This lead to a rather impromptu date with the Dr.

We had been chatting for 4 days and he was equally as chatty as me. He had a similar sense of humor and texting and messaging him didn’t seem awkward or forced in any way. I was beginning to like him so knew I had to meet him ASAP.

We decide to meet at a local fancy bar. A place I have been to once but it was cool.

I had a bit of a disaster at work and was running late. He sent me pictures of him drinking a few beers for “Dutch courage” as he described it.

I again didn’t wear my first date dress, but opted for a more casual orange dress and a pair of converse shoes. There is zero pressure on my end and when I turn up, I’m easy breezy.

My date however is losing his shit. He seems to be sweating (not just because of the heat), but he is so nervous to meet me. So nervous in fact that he spills an entire jug of water of the table (and me) as he is pouring water. This is a man who saves lives on a daily basis who is blushing in my company. I’m smitten.

He’s a Dr and tells me the most incredible tales of saving lives (and sadly losing lives). He is simply charming and flatters me in all the right ways. Not only do we have the most insane things in common (he’s also learning Japanese, loves anime), but we were brought up just one county away from each other so have a lot of shared stories and know similar areas and places.

I don’t think I’ve experienced this on an online first date before, but I could see how much he wanted me in his eyes. Just the way he looked at me was so carnal and primal. It was both arousing and made me look away and blush.

We ordered food and a bottle of wine and after a few drinks, I needed to pee. So I sauntered to find the bathroom.

The bathroom was super lush and had all the fancy gadgets you’d expect from a top end bar. I got lost in the fancy hand wash and lotions and sprays that I then realized I’d been gone for nearly 10 minutes!!!!

Oh god, what must he think of me….. or my bladder, so I do what any normal, self respecting girl does on this situation…… I text him pretending I’m locked inside!!

Not only does my knight in shining armor appear at the bathroom door within minutes of my sos text, but he’s called the bar manager and waitress to assist getting me out. Oh god!!!

So while I sit down on the plush stool willing the earth to swallow me up, there is a team outside trying to free me from the prison of my own making!!

5 minutes later, and the agony is still prevailing. If is only when Threats of “calling the fire brigade” force my hand, I magically can open the door.

The rest of the date went very well and he is officially my hero for trying to rescue me from my imaginary porcelain throne room!!!

Will Defo see him again

So, the comedian and I had been talking for ages. Probably messaging back and forth for at least a month but it was impossible for us to meet. I feel like he was away, then I was busy, then he was busy, ad nauseum.

So when he invited me to his comedy gig, I decided that this was the chance to finally get to meet the man.

I should preface this with the fact that I’ve been super sick all week. It’s one of those rare weeks where the sun decided to shine in the uk and it was deliciously humid. However the problem with me and humidity (no, it’s not having curly hair guys!!) are the accompanying migraines I get. So after 4 days of thunderstorms, my head is destroyed, I have done no work, and mostly failing to function. However, I was pretty sure it was going to be the only chance I would ever get to meet this guy. Nothing ventured, nothing gained right?

So I commit to the date.

It’s literally as far away as possible from my flat (without leaving England!). So me being me, I call an Uber. And being a total dickhead, I make a big deal about how far I’m traveling to meet him…. I even include a map, and give him a running commentary of the strange, mysterious suburbs we pass to get to the venue.

You know when you’re texting someone and find it’s not sending only to look up and realize you are in a tunnel under the water and you’re pretty sure this is the exact location the zombies win the battle against humanity? (Yes I know that was a run on sentence that probably deserved some punctuation…can you just imagine if for now?).

It’s also hot as hell, and the asshole Uber drive won’t put the air conditioning on. It’s broken apparently. Whatever.

So my driver and I are stuck in this tunnel and he keeps staring at me. And being the Queen of Modesty that I am, I start to think “damn girl. You’re looking fine. Some tinder guy is gonna get Lucky tonight”.

Uber driver “I recognize you from somewhere don’t I?”

Me *actual sinking feeling*. When I start to think that maybe it’s the same Uber driver who thinks I am pregnant with Timmy and Tommy.

Uber “yeah, I saw you before”

Me “really?” Did you watch X,Y,Z? I’m an actress you know!!” (Yes I’m a douche)

Uber “nah…. it was something else”

Me “oh”

Uber “do you know Vinnie?”

Me “I don’t think so”

Uber “yeah, that’s it. You served time with Tina”.

Me “nope. I’ve not been to jail before”

Uber “nah, I’m sure it was you”

Me “nah mate. Wrong girl. Wasn’t me”.

Uber “I could have sworn”

Me …

And this bit I am not proud of.

He keeps staring at me in the mirror and I catch his eye and give him a knowing smile.

Then my mum calls and I do a totally dick move and answer the phone saying “hi Tina”. Have a rather general conversation with a rather cryptic line “I’m in an Uber now and it’s super hot. Be there soon. Say hi to Vinnie”.

And you know what happened next dear reader? The air conditioning in the car magically came on!!!! It’s a miracle.

Thankfully my mother doesn’t listen to most things I say so she was none the wiser.

So I rock up at the venue and meet the comedian for the first time and he is adorable (albeit very quiet). I started to worry I was making him nervous, but he later told me he had a raging hangover.we don’t actually talk that much.

Most of the comedy was average but my date was very good. He got several belly aching laughs from me so defo ticked the “make Kim laugh” box in my criteria.

I walked him to the bus stop through one of the sketchiest parts of town (where I am pretty sure syphilis was invented). He felt safe coz I lived in New York…….

and I wondered how my umbrella could be used as nunchucks should we need saving.

Leave him at the bus stop and jump into an Uber home. And promptly vomited out of the window. Good news, migraine has gone. Bad news, I’m no doubt getting a cleaning bill that even Vinnie can’t get me out of!!!

Oh….. Did I mention he’s Australian? But doesn’t seem a twat like the last one

When oxford met Cambridge

So Cambridge I have written about before. We’ve met each other a few times since our first time, but we are totally in different places so we just see each other casually and consider each other friends.

Enter Oxford. Oxford is ginger (swoon). funny. Oxford educated (you know my obsession with a good education). And American (no need to explain). Yes, he gets me, my intellect, my sense of humor and my weird accent… what’s not to like about him?????

So we meet at my fav place (y’all know the one), and have some dinner. He’s charming and very funny. Albeit a little too loud and slightly arrogant (I think I may be a little arrogant also, so I can overlook this).

He also doesn’t put his hand in his pocket when ordering the first drink which irks me. Now, I’m not one for expecting a guy to pay at all. I much prefer “going Dutch” on a date. Or, if I’m late, I’ll offer to buy the first round. I don’t expect a guy to pay, but a gesture towards pretending to pay makes a difference to me.

So anyway, we seem to be doing rounds now. I’m down.

He had told me previously that he had never been to an open mic night so I suggested that we go to Cambridge’s (yes the same one I went to with the Australian). I don’t mind, if he doesn’t mind.

So we walk across to the open mic place and he’s literally power walking ahead of me. This drives me mad as shows no awareness of others. He’s starting to grate on me.

It’s only when we rock up to the open mic that I realize that he is acting this way as I am making him ridiculously nervous. For such a confident guy, my presence is effecting him. He also downs another 2 drinks and we listen to the singing. Being the musical theatre buff that I am, I know all the songs (which he seems impressed with), and am giving him the back story to all the songs. I am also getting tipsy and wanting to get up and sing. But trying hard to resist.

Between the songs, we are having the best chat and he very vocally expresses how much he likes me.

He was also super nice about all the singers who got up (even those who were struggling) and he Just turned into a lovely, lovely guy once the drinks had relaxed him.

He held my hand and encouraged me to lean against him when the soppy numbers were sung, and played with my hair.

We stayed till the end. Said goodbye to Cambridge (and his date), and Oxford waited with me for my Uber Home.

He’s defo worth seeing for a second date.

Called Cambridge when I got home to congratulate him and he said Oxford was lovely and seemed visually into me. I always preferred Oxford to Cambridge anyway 😉