Just so we are clear...

Clarity.

Makes everything clearer. Smoother. Normal even. Just a little bit of communication so that people understand and can relate to what you are doing or feeling.

When I worked for BA and there was a plane delay, I would make a point of telling everyone that I was checking in or boarding for their flight, as much information that I was able to. It helped them. There were less arguments, less stress at the Gate and even some camaraderie to be found.

We are simple creatures. We like to be told what is happening; it gives us a sense of control.

Now, of course I am well aware that not every reader of my blog knows every intimate part of my life...good God, why would you want to? I am sure that you have your own dilemmas to deal with and adding mine to the mix would be rude and a little bit presumptuous of me.

Nevertheless, I do feel compelled to blog this evening over the issues once again, of communication. Call it; a second part to 'New Balls Please.'

A recent experience has led me down this route. A recent experience has made me completely realise that there are men out there whose only focus is themselves and their ego. Not that I was completely oblivious to that fact, but it is with sad realisation that someone I trusted and allowed back into my life on their request, felt the need to lie to me, ignore me and in general behave badly.

Then finally, after gaining and breaking my trust yet again - they suggested that in a roundabout way that we stay in touch, by commenting on my blog.

Please. Don't do me any favours. Do not think that I want to ever hear from you again by blog, by email, by text or snail mail.

Seriously people, if you are even considering contacting an ex flame to enquire about their general well being or contemplating a new relationship, and there is a little part of you that is just unsure...then DON'T DO IT!! Step away from your 'phone...leave them alone. It took months maybe years to get over you, so don't even consider making them feel shit again. It makes you selfish, weak, shitty and quite frankly, a cockwomble (look it up under Urban Dictionary.)

As for my dilemma, it is no longer a dilemma. I now have complete clarity and for once I am speaking what is really on my mind. I am finally waking up to the fact that being nice, is not always the answer.

So Goodbye. You know who you are.

...and just so we are clear...

New balls please...

All of you men (and women) who have behaved badly towards someone who cares about you, need to go stand in the corner right now.

I am not talking about the usual couple type arguments that come and go like the change of the weather, but all of those who have been deliberately dishonest, lied, broken promises, played mind games and generally made someone else feel crap by your actions.

Badly behaved characters return in real life too...

Yes, you. Go stand in the corner and face the wall and reflect on your behaviour.

Did you think that those that were hurt wouldn't eventually see your behaviour for what it truly is? That we wouldn't wake up to the knowledge that your behaviour is wrong and actually you don't deserve the best?

Many of my friends are tired of being lied to by 'potential' love interests...would it really be such a terrible thing to just be honest? If you had the balls enough to contact someone, tell someone a pack of lies or flirt with them - then you surely still have the cojones to tell them the truth and not hide behind silence and blame culture?

Grown up men behaving like teenage boys with no responsibility and no respect to the women they are talking to...do you seriously think that you deserve such amazing women in your life?

A good tennis game starts with two freshly faced partners, ready to play...a bad tennis game will always have one that plays unfairly, loses their temper when things don't go their way and love is always a zero score...

Is it all about winning? Is it all about scoring the ace and knocking out your partner?

Well, do you know what? If the above sounds like you I would like to tell you without further ado... Game over and new balls please...

Pants, pot noodle and passports...

Due to a random drunken decision six weeks ago, Pootle and I found ourselves jetting off to Ireland this weekend. Dublin to be precise.

The hobbits and I have recently just moved house and Pootle is in the process of buying hers, so this felt like something we needed to do to let our hair down, however we were also reliably informed that Dublin was expensive...not a good time for added expense.

"Don't worry," Pootle reassured me, "we take clean pants, our passports and we can survive on Pot noodles should we need to."

So leaving unpacked boxes and the heating system on low, our adventure started with the unforgettable flight journey with Ryan Air; attended by the wicked witch of the west and her mate.

Could the staff on this low budget airline be any more miserable? Muttering through the safety procedure, grumbling about the inconvenience of changing a five euro note and almost pushing us down the steps on arrival. Ryan Air - making it memorable.

However, not to have our excitement quelled...here we were in Dublin. In Ireland. The home of James Joyce, The Pogues, Leprechauns and most importantly...the black stuff...Guinness.

...and what a fabulous city it is.

Many people made suggestions for our weekend, but we were warned by the mother of Pootle, than in no uncertain terms not to go to Main Street. Allegedly, there were undesirables there...i.e. Drunkards, people who partied all night, men etc... So we promptly googled it and made our way to Temple Bar. A city of buzzing night life and Irish jigging...a match made in heaven.

We visited the Leprechaun museum, the only place to make me feel tiny on a chair, tried Irish Stew in a small pub; drank a large Whiskey at the Jameson's factory...and got a tad tipsy on Guinness on the Guinness tour.

The best bit however, just had to be rocking it late into the wee early hours of sunday morning back at Temple Bar, with some new found friends. People, like us, who were not quite ready to sit in their rocking chairs and give into the aches and pains of older age.

So if you ever get a chance to go to Dublin...enjoy the Guinness, the Whiskey, and the friendliness of the Irish...after all, all you need to get away is just your pants, your passport and some pot noodles...