Tag Archives: Florida

Nine good things about being single in your thirties

17 May

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So, I’m on my way home from Florida. Which is sad news. But I’m sipping a Bloody Mary in the business class lounge. Which is good news.

In the past nine months, since finding myself single, I’ve tried very hard to find some positives in being all alone in my thirties. It hasn’t been easy. But since it’s nine months since the pizza of doom and all, I’ve made a little list of nine good things about being single when everyone around you is married and producing children.

Here we go:

1. Flying business class. Why not treat yourself? You have nobody else to pay for. Let me tell you, skipping all those lines for check in and security, swanning through to the lounge and pouring yourself a drink… it’s nice. Really nice.

2. Flowers. Buying yourself flowers means that you always get the ones you want. In May, that means peonies. In fact, buying yourself flowers means that you always get flowers. I don’t care what kind of flowers. I like having them.

3. Tinder. This is new to me, but hilarious and thrilling all at once. I’ve been playing while in Florida. I can’t meet any of the guys, but it’s still fun. And what an ego boost.

4. Garlic. Eat as much as you like. Nobody cares.

5. Sex And The City takes on a new level of relevance. I’m going to watch the whole thing again when I get home. Now I actually understand.

6. If you want to eat nothing but olives for dinner, you totally can. Same is true of Maltesers. There’s nobody to tell you to eat like an adult, or watch your sugar intake.

7. You join some pretty great company of other hot to women who have been single in their thirties. “Who on earth?” I hear you ask. Well, Cameron Diaz, Jennifer Anniston, Sandra Bullock.

8. Let’s be frank. While in the summer months you do need to shave your legs, there are other body parts that you can pretty much disregard from the grooming routine for a while. Some of the trickiest of body parts, in fact. Some of the most painful to take care of.

9. You can plan your next holiday as soon as you’re done with the one you’re on. Or even before. I’m so ready to come back to Florida in a few months, and there’s nobody to get in the way of my plans or that sunshine.

Now, you all know as well as I do that all I want is someone to love. Someone to love me. And yes, of course, a cuddle can be worth a lot more than a Sex And The City marathon, while eating garlic olives for dinner, on a business class flight, to go on holiday, not having touched my bikini line for weeks, safe in the knowledge that I am just like Cameron fricking Diaz (although I can’t confirm her bikini line routine), and there are beautiful peonies sitting on my window ledge at home. But I gotta find some reasons to smile. It’s not a bad start.

Grief loves sunshine

7 May

Buddies.

Apologies for not writing for a few days. I’ve been terribly busy lying on the beach, walking on the beach, reading on the beach, drinking Sam Adams and frozen cocktails, eating lobster, and generally having such a nice time.

This is so different from my trip in November. I’m so much happier. So much calmer. So much more connected to the world. When I look back, geeez, in November we’d only been broken up three months. I don’t know how I was still breathing, to be perfectly honest.

Well, Saturday (as I was flying across The Atlantic) was nine months since the pizza of doom. Nine. Fricking. Months. How the hell did that happen?

He’s further from me than he’s ever been. And, yes, that makes me sad. But it also makes me breathe a sigh of relief and get excited about the future.

I’ve been reading a book about a woman grieving her husband’s death. I won’t tell you the name of the book because I’d already have ruined the story for you. But I am so surprised by how similar her feelings and symptoms are to mine. The physical side, too. The pain which comes from nowhere. The crying that starts when you least expect it. And the kidding herself that he’ll come back.

In those first two months after the pizza of doom I used to seriously think he would be there when I got home at night. That he’d realise it was a mistake and let himself in and surprise me when I got back from another day crying at work. And every day I cried for hours when I was so disappointed that it didn’t happen.

Grief is a funny thing. And nine months isn’t that long in the grand scheme of things. But I’m getting there.

And sunshine definitely helps.

Floridaaaaaaaaa

3 May

Back at Gatwick airport, buddies.

There’s a lot to be said for travelling alone. I’m so efficient! I’m the ideal travel companion for, well, myself. I really pride myself on finding the shortest security line, having my documents ready before asked, grabbing a coffee and locating the best seat in the airport. Not everyone is into that.

I am feeling super stressed. I keep waking at 4 am these days. I guess it’s a work/ex and the keys/pre travel anxiety cocktail. My skin has completely broken out, which just doesn’t happen to me. I’m a grease monster!

But I can’t think of a better remedy than two weeks on the beach in Florida.

See you in twelve hours, beach.

Gatwick airport

27 Mar

I’m sitting in a bar at Gatwick airport drinking an Aperol Spritz, waiting for a flight to Glasgow.

In just over five weeks time I will be back here, headed for Florida.

This is great news.

As is my Aperol.

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The beach

13 Nov

Florida is bliss.

I’ll let you in on a secret: it’s actually not sunny today. But, I’ve spent the past two days on the beach, so I’m not complaining.

The beach here is my happy place. Whenever I am trying to be calm and focused in life – in Pilates, before big presentations, when things feel like they are falling apart – this is the place that I picture. My family have been coming here since long before I was even born. Which is a looonnnngggg time ago. These days I am here at least once a year, usually in November when London gets too cold.

Walking on the beach yesterday I was thinking just how many memories I have tied to it. Running around as a kid, playing with my barbies in the water. Reading Sweet Valley Twins books on a sun lounger. And, as I got older, walking along beside that turquoise water, just thinking.

I’ve walked that beach wondering when I would ever find a job after I graduated university. I’ve walked while beyond ecstatic that I had just got my first role as a copywriter. I’ve walked knowing that in a few months I was going to work in New York. I’ve walked pining for my Secret Work Boyfriend, and fighting with the ex before the ex. And, of course, last year I walked along there daydreaming about my ex. So far this year, most of my walks have involved fairly sad conversations in my head.

But it’s got me thinking, I wonder what will be in my head as I walk this beach next November?

Looking out on the Gulf of Mexico, there’s nothing but sky and water. Of course, sometimes clouds come over. But, the thing is, they always pass.