Mr Deep South

Right, back to the dating.

Now this was an interesting one…  Mr Deep South (all will be revealed later about the name) looked reasonably OK, although he only had one picture on the website and he was wearing sunglasses pulled down slightly and I have to say that he looked like he had a bit of a gammy eye – but on the whole, not unattractive or so I thought (as much as you can tell from a headshot).

He had his own business, he met the height stipulation, he hadn’t put anything in his profile or emails which could be classed as being obnoxious and he didn’t use text speak or call me ‘hun’ (Grrrrrrrrrrrr I hate that – always reminds me of Attila) … so he was actually off to a flying start!

We did the usual exchange of emails, before swapping numbers.  We had one quick phone call on a Sunday night and agreed to talk again the next evening – I was working away during the week, so would have plenty of time to speak in the evenings and it would be a welcome distraction from my dreary ‘Premier Inn’ *shudder*.

Our first conversation was for about 1.5 hours … I know, I know, that goes against the rules (ie you should keep those first conversations short otherwise what would you have to talk about when you actually come face to face) and I have to be honest, I didn’t really know what to think.  I do know that he monopolised the conversation and I knew so much about him at the end than he did about me … in fact, I can’t recall him asking anything about me … that seems to be another theme!!!  I’ve got to be honest, it did irk me a bit, but I thought I’d give him the benefit of the doubt … I never bloody learn do I?

The next night, we had another reasonably long conversation – however, I really did notice that it was all about him again – I definitely wasn’t mistaken and I’ve got to be honest, I was getting really bored.  However, being a glutton for punishment, I did agree to talk to him again the next night … In retrospect, I think it was out of boredom of being stuck in a boring hotel room rather than out of a want to actually speak to him, but when the time came, I texted him and told him I’d had to have dinner with colleagues and I wouldn’t be free until later … cut a long story short, I ended up speaking to him for 10 minutes and yes, you guessed it, it was all about him again.

Looking back, I’m actually quite glad I’d spoken to him so much because otherwise, I may not have picked up on his arrogance!  He actually told me he was arrogant (no shit Sherlock) and how successful he was, how wonderful he was and what a great catch he was bla bla bla … ‘whatever’ … then he told me his full name and told me to Google him (so that I could see how successful and wonderful he is … idiot).  That was actually his biggest mistake … 

The minute we got off the phone (me feigning tiredness) I of course Googled him … pictures first.  I could only find two pictures and believe me I looked!  One was the one that was on the dating site, the one with the gammy eye and another … OMG talk about fat!!!!!  We’re not talking a couple of lbs. here, we are talking seriously, full on, chub lardy fat.  He said he was 48 on his profile, I showed the picture to my dad who blurted out “58 if a day!  Dear God love, you can do better than that!”  (Awwww you’ve gotta love Dads).

Now this is the guy who on his profile said he was a Buddhist (he isn’t, he has just done the odd Buddhist meditation class and that does not make you a Buddhist - although he does have a Buddha Belly), he said he does yoga (not with that belly he doesn’t), that he really looks after himself and is at the peak of his fitness (deluded).

Now you could say that I’m being massively shallow, but I take good care of myself and I don’t want to go out with a slob or a liar or someone who has to big themselves up, so that was just icing on the cake for me.  I also thought it was odd that I searched the Tinternet and could only find those 2 pictures – there was nothing else at all!

During that the next day I was driving home and got a surprise call from him … I had a quick chat with him and told him I’d call him that evening, but I really didn’t want to.  When I got home I texted him and said that I was busy and going to my friends.  He said, “Call me when you get in.  It doesn’t matter what time”

I waited til about 10.30 and texted him saying that I was pooped and I’d speak to him the next day.  You know you’re not interested in someone when you’re making up excuses not to contact them.  It’s not rocket science.  He must have been pissed off with me because he didn’t text me at all the next day.  However, the Saturday, I got about 10 messages from him.  Finally I replied saying that he’s not the man for me … just that … nothing else.  He replied, “OK”.

For a couple of weeks after that, I didn’t bother with the dating site, I was too busy, but when I did finally go back on there he obviously saw me and sent me a message saying, “Still on here?  You shouldn’t have binned me off, lol”

‘Lol’ … I’ve found that men put that when they’re actually quite pissed off with you but don’t want what they’ve written to sound like they are!  I knew what he’d been thinking, because he is so arrogant, it didn’t occur to him that I just wasn’t interested in him, he thought that I’d met someone else, because why oh why would I not want to progress things unless there was another man involved?? Not when he’s so damn wonderful and such a catch (which, incidentally, he told me he was during one of our epic conversations).

I replied, “I haven’t been on the site because I’m busy, not because I’ve met someone else.  I’m sorry but like I said, you’re just not the man for me” Ouch! As you would expect, I didn’t hear back from him, nor have I heard from him since.

Oh and before I forget, the name reference … well that’s because he has a house in America’s Deep South which he told me endless stories about … and another thing I didn’t like is that he goes hunting … like proper ‘shoot Bambi’s mum’ type hunting.  That would never do!

Tomorrow, I’ll tell you about my very own stalker!  It just gets better! Until then my lovelies, be fabulous.

Lots of love

Jx

Friday Night Mayhem!

I know I promised at the end of my last post to tell you about Mr Stalker, but I just thought I’d share this rather funny little interlude first... 

Last Friday night, I ended up on an impromptu evening out with two of my oldest friends (I’ve known them since school, so we’re talking a looooooooong time) Sharon and Jo.  Sharon had been in touch the day before to say that she’d just got a new role and needed to celebrate.  Now, never being one able to turn down a friend in need of course I said yes.  Usually when we catch up, we tend to just go to a local pub after work and have something to eat, as we are all usually driving, we don’t tend to have a drink, so Sharon said, “I’m celebrating and we aren’t sitting in some little pub … we’re doing it probably!”

Who was I to argue?!  After a bit of toing and froing we decided on Liverpool and so that none of us needed to drive we made the momentous decision to take the train (we live in different towns, so a taxi would be difficult and we hadn’t got much time to arrange things).  Yes my lovelies, Public Transport and you know how much I LOVE Public Transport.  However, needs must and all that.   So we agreed that they would get on the train in their town and I’d get on the same train when it hit mine.

The journey there went without incident and we landed safe and sound.  We hopped a taxi to Liverpool One (a new shopping and entertainment mall that recently opened in the city) and headed for a really nice restaurant Ree Rah were we were actually able to sit outside!  The weather was glorious.  I actually can’t remember the last time I went out for the evening and was actually able to sit and eat outside without being totally freezing and wanting to go inside. 

Well we had a lovely meal, some bubbles and cocktails and a generally fab catch up (including lots of hysterical laughter … I do love those ladies, they’re very funny).  Once we were all done, we hopped a taxi back to the station in order to catch the last train home.  All I have to say now is NEVER AGAIN!  Have you ever caught the last train home from anywhere on a Friday/Saturday night?  It was BONKERS and although we had had some drinks (well Sharon and I had) we weren’t that drunk … we didn’t have time to get that drunk because we were either eating or talking!

We walked past one carriage and Sharon had a horrified look on her face when she saw the people sitting there and said, “Walk on!  Not there!” Jo and I just giggled and carried on to the next.  We took our seats and it all didn’t seem too bad … not too bad until the train started to fill up that is.  As the whistle blew we started to hear a commotion in the carriage that we had luckily swerved (you really have to listen to your gut feelings … or other’s gut feelings … they’re there for a reason). 

Next minute we see this decidedly butch lady quite small, grey short hair (a man’s hair cut) no make up and obviously a smoker (her skin was just awful and she had one of those rhaspy laughs) – really rough looking and totally drunk singing and shouting at the top her lungs - we just all looked at each other, completely gobsmacked.  Next minute I looked over and saw her swinging off the hand rails (you know the vertical ones they have on trains) in a particularly poor attempt at pole dancing.

Next minute a girl behind us stands up and starts to sing, “My My Miss American Pie” closely followed by “Day Dream Believer” at the top of her lungs and tried to encourage everyone else to join in.  Next, Pole Dancing Queen (PDQ) hears this and starts climbing over the seats in her carriage – actually not minding that there were people sitting in those seats and also starts singing at the top of her lungs.  Jo and I couldn’t actually see all of this from where were sitting, we could just about see her head bobbing around, when Sharon turns round all wide eyed and says, “She’s sticking her crotch in some poor blokes face!”

Well Jo and I were hysterical at this point; PDQ then enters our carriage and continues to stand on a bloke’s knee just opposite from where we were sitting so that she could catapult herself up the pole!  Oh Dear God … the three of us could hardly breathe; I thought Jo was going to pass out … at least Sharon and I had had a drink and could see the funny side, poor Jo was almost paralysed with shock!  Sharon happened to take our picture at this point, I’m crying laughing and Jo just looks distraught!

Next PDQ extricates herself from the pole and comes and stands by Sharon (who looked suitably mortified), but luckily she moved quite quickly down our carriage trying to climb across the seats in a kind of monkey manner.  All Sharon could say, with a look of utter disgust as she wrinkled her nose up was, “I could smell her crotch and it wasn’t nice!”  OMG I thought I was going to hyperventilate (she actually used a different word than crotch, but I’m trying to keep this family friendly!).  She added, “She’s going round throwing her crotch in everyone’s faces … and it stinks.  I can smell it from here!  Dirty woman.”

I was crying laughing.  For the rest of the journey there was much movement between the carriages together with some rivalry singing and I have to say it was the most entertaining and the most shocking (in equal measures) journey that I’ve ever taken and it reminded me never to get on public transport again … if I can at all help it!  And how Jo is after this little escapade?  Traumatised is the only way I can describe it.  I don’t think she may ever be able to get over it … I think she may well be scarred for life!  I don’t think it affected Sharon and me in such a detrimental way as we had some natural anaesthetic in our blood stream!

Awww you’ve gotta laugh haven’t you!  Right lovelies, I’ll get back to the dating again in my next post.  Until then, be fabulous.

Lots of love

Jx

Mr Tall-Butt-Boring

This was quite an unusual one ...  I actually went on a date with this one.  He seemed really nice and according to his profile he was 6’4” with a pleasant face, had his own business and was around the same age as me (I don’t know why I’m saying ‘was’ I assume he’s still all of those things, it was only a few weeks ago!).  We chatted on the phone (always a good start when they actually want to speak to you instead of texting) and he seemed really nice (although he was Welsh, but he couldn’t help that so I overlooked it! Ha ha) so we agreed to meet one Sunday night.

Over that weekend, I got some nice texts from him saying how he was looking forward to meeting me.  When the night came, luckily it was the first of those nice early summer days so he being a gentleman said that he wanted to meet somewhere near me (he lived about 40 miles away).  I thought that was a good start and we met at another little country pub (there’s a theme here!).

When I turned up, he was already waiting for me in the car park (that was a good start as I’m always the first anywhere because of my ‘issue’ with lateness, so someone there before me is always a good thing).  I couldn’t miss him either … he was rather huge ... I actually think he was taller that he stated in his profile, so it looks like the same thing (lying about one’s height) occurs at both ends of the scale!  However, that didn’t bother me as I was able to wear my highest, super high, fantabulous Kurt Geiger wedges (the type you have to be careful how you walk in them … one small wobble on an unnoticed pebble and it’s all over!  I actually broke my elbow once doing that ... that’s a whole other story). 

We trotted (well I trotted, he made large strides with me trying hopelessly to keep up with his ridiculously long legs) in to the pub and he dutifully bought the drinks.  I thought things were looking up considerably.  The next two hours (yes two hours, that’s a long time for me for a first date, usually I can’t get away quick enough!) went incredibly slowly.  We discussed his failing business at length and I mean EVERYTHING about his failing business, from beginning to end including the entire run down of the figures (I thought he was going to bring out his P&L account ... well I guess it beats, “come and see my etchings!”) he told me about his stroppy daughter and what a handful she is (she sounded a complete fright) all about his bitch of an ex-wife and how impossible his situation was and now I think about it, not one thing about me.  In fact, the whole ‘date’ if you can call it that, was more like a life-coaching session … I told my friend afterwards that I actually felt like putting an invoice in for my time at the end!

After that, he texted me telling me what a wonderful night he had had and how he couldn’t wait to see him again and how fabulous he thought I was (which is hysterical really considering he didn’t ask me one thing about me) … I’m not surprised actually, not because I think I’m all those things, but I used so much positive reinforcement with him that he couldn’t have helped but feel better … however, he took that as attraction!  I really must learn to stop that, men tend to get the wrong idea all the time when I’m only trying to help them!  After a few days of his texting, I dropped him a line to say that he was a nice guy but not the guy for me.

His reply was (and he was deadly serious), “I knew I shouldn’t have worn jeans!” He shouldn’t have worn jeans!  God bless him, he didn’t realise that the endless conversation about his woes put me off; he thought it was because he was wearing jeans.  Talk about no emotional intelligence!  I replied saying that it was nothing to do with his jeans and gave him a little bit of constructive feedback; well I just couldn’t help myself.  I told him to ask something about your date, don’t monopolise the conversation, don’t talk about your stroppy kid or your mental ex-wife!  But then that provoked a self-loathing text from him where he said that he was giving up dating that he wasn’t cut out for it, that his life was a disaster, that he may never love again … *groan* …. DELETE … NEXT! 

Awwwww you’ve gotta laugh!  Tomorrow, I’ll tell you about Mr Deep South … bet you can’t wait! Ha ha ha.  Until then my lovelies, be fabulous!

Lots of love

Jx

Mr Caribbean...

 

Well here we are again, just as I promised.  Today’s little tale is about Mr Caribbean, oh this is a corker you’ll love this one...

I was contacted by this rather gorgeous, exotic (exotic to me is anyone who’s not Caucasian!) looking male. I had a quick shufty at his profile and he looked rather lovely (plus his mum lives in Barbados, so being rather mercenary, I did think of the free Caribbean holibobs!) so I mailed him back and he mailed me and I mailed him and he mailed me … anyway, you get the idea.  This went on way longer than I would usually tolerate (I have a view that if they haven’t asked for my number within 5 email exchanges, then they are never likely to … actually, it’s not just a view, it’s been tried and tested on a number of occasions). 

This went far over the 5 exchanges … more like 20 and then it dawned on me … I’d been here before with this guy, so mailed him and said, “Sorry, I’ve just realised that we’ve been here before” his reply was a bit odd, “What prey tell are you referring to?”  I told him that we’d emailed loads before and I’d given up because I surmised that he wasn’t going to call and was a bit of a time waster.  That should have been Alarm Bell No 1.

He came back almost immediately and said that he wasn’t a time waster and could he have my number and could he take me out on the Friday night (this was on the Tuesday).  Well, I couldn’t say no (well I guess I could have, but I didn’t) so we swapped numbers and that’s where alarm bell No 2 should have kicked in … he sent me 5 pictures of himself, clearly taken by himself in various rooms in his house (not a very nice house) wearing different tops and headgear … go figure!).  I don’t get why guys do that.  Why would you send a picture of yourself, or rather why would you send pictureS of yourself (plural) without being asked for them?  It smacks of either narcissism … a bit of “Look at me, aren’t I gorgeous and aren’t you lucky girl – here’s some fabulous pictures of me that you can download to your desktop or keep on your phone, you could even print them up and put them around your house so that you can drool over me all day long”)  No … Just no!  You DO NOT send pictures unless you’re asked for them.  Also there’s the fact that they send the same pictures as you’ve already seen on the website  If I was so desperate to carry around their picture, which I never am, I could download it from the website.  OOoooohhhhhhhh I have such an issue with this that I’m getting wound up about it while I’m typing.

Anyway, I digressed a bit there sorry about that, I’ll move on.  So I got over the ‘picture’ thing and  we agreed to meet in a little country pub not too far from where we both lived (we live in different towns but only about 5 miles from each other).  Over the next few days, we exchanged perfectly nice texts about the weather, what we were up to that day … just general chit chat.  Then on the Thursday, I get a text to say could he change the venue to a Vodka bar in HIS home town.  Now, this should have sent Alarm Bell No 3 ringing on 4 counts:

1. Why should I have travel to him?  He certainly wasn’t making it easy for me. 
2. He would have been able to drink and I would have had to drive.
3. Why would you want to have a first date in a rowdy bar in a ‘fighting’ town (neither of our towns are that prestigious!) full of kids on a Friday night?
4. He’s 50 for God’s sake!  (Quite a bit older than what I’d usually go for … that should have been alarm bell all on its own!)

So, I just sent a polite response saying that I’d rather we stick to our original plans, which he seemed fine about.  (Oh and while I’m at it, what is it about everyone wanting to use Viber and Whatsapp now … it’s fine for use with your friends but with a potential date?  All I can put it down to is that these guys are too cheap to pay for texts … or am I showing my age?  Don’t answer that!)

Then I got the howler … “What do you look for in a man?” (I really hate those type of questions with a passion, they really make me squirm – if you really must ask me things like that  do it face to face or call me, better still, don’t ask me those types of questions at all!  And while I’m at it, don’t try and get to know me through texts!  Phew, another rant!).  So gave a really non-committal reply and asked him what he looked for in a woman … I didn’t actually really care by this point, but thought I should be polite.  Well, what I received back I can only describe as pornographic!  I nearly fell off my chair, it was so rude that I couldn’t even read it out loud to one of my friends – I just shoved the phone into her hand with a horrified look on my face.   She read it and actually turned red!

She said, “You’re not going to see him now are you?  That’s disgusting, I’m cringing and feel dirty just reading it” I said, “What do you think?” We agreed that I should reply telling him that I thought his text was inappropriate, especially to send a text like that to someone you don’t know or haven’t even met (in fact, I think I’d still be shocked if I got that text from someone I’d been in a full blown relationship with … honestly, it was a shocker!).  How can you go from talking about the weather in one text!  He replied saying sorry but that that he was only answering my question.  I didn’t reply.  Neither did I reply to the slew of texts I got from him over the next 24 hours.  Finally I thought I should put him out of his misery and wrote, “Look, you’re not the man for me, move on” … DELETE … NEXT.  Luckily, I haven’t heard from him again!

Phew, told you it was a goody and there’s still plenty where that came from.  Right lovelies, people to see, gyms to do.  Until next time (probably tomorrow whilst I’m on a roll!) be fabulous.

Lots of love

Jx

I'm Back with More On-line Dating Escapades!

 

Hi lovelies, it’s been a while and all I can do is apologise.  I don’t really have much of an excuse other than I’ve been unbelievably busy with clients, clients more clients, the cinema and the gym (yes … you read that correctly – I’ve been going on a fairly consistent basis to the gym – not that I’ve actually been sweating you understand, that would just never do but I have to admit that I’m feeling better and have lost a few lbs. in to the bargain!  I'm one of those lucky suckers who never gets very hot, so even exercising in this heat hasn't stopped me ... nor has it made me sweat ... people tell me I'm lucky, but you do not want to be around me when it's cold ... brrrrrrrrrr! *angry/sad face*).

So, what have I got to tell you?  Well I’ve thought long and hard about whether I should continue to write about my dating exploits which I have debated long and hard with my friends (Sharon, Joanne and Michelle).  I have to be honest that I was thinking that maybe I was starting to look a bit sad and desperate because I seem to be constantly dipping in and out of on-line dating and not finding anyone even half decent (one bloke on the dating site I’ve been back on actually said, “What’s wrong with you that you’re still here?” My answer, “Because this place is full of knobs like you!”).

However, my erstwhile friends have persuaded to put pen to paper again, by saying that "it’s just not fair of me not to share because your tales are the funniest things we get to read!” … thanks guys, it’s nice to know that my love life, or lack thereof, is keeping you amused!  So really through nothing more than wanting to bring a smile to my friends’ faces, I’ve decided to take the giant leap and fill you in on what’s been happening.  First things first though …

The Disclaimer

OK, I feel the need to have to say this every time I start a new discussion regarding on-line dating, because there’s always some smart ass (usually a man ... sorry if I seem sexist, but that's the truth!) trying to tell me where I’m going wrong or what I should be doing or saying, or generally giving me the benefit of their wisdom (I know, I know, there’s a fundamental difference between men and women in this respect – women love the gossip and generally just tell each other what’s going on and men want to fix things … Guys, I don’t need fixing, I appreciate your concern though!).  So before I start, here’s the full on disclaimer:

THIS IS A BIT OF FUN AND WHILST EVERY TALE IS TRUE (never embellished, honest) I DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY AND NEITHER SHOULD YOU, NOR DO I SHARE WITH YOU ANYTHING THAT I WOULD CONSIDER PRIVATE OR PERSONAL.  WHAT I SHARE IS A TINY PART OF MY LIFE AND I ONLY DO IT FOR YOUR ENJOYMENT … OH WHILE I'M AT IT, THIS SITUATION (ie dating) DOES NOT REQUIRE ANY SORT OF ‘FIXING’ AND NEITHER DO I!  READ IT FOR WHAT IT'S INTENDED TO BE … A GIGGLE!

Right … can I move on now?  Has that well and truly sunk in?  Good J

OK well, I don’t really know where to start there’s been so much and my memory is particularly lousy (which was the whole point of me starting this blog in the first place … so that I could remember what I’d been up to!).  Let’s start with Mr Vertically Challenged…

Mr Vertically Challenged (Mr VM for short ... did you like what I did there huh, huh?) I've called him this  because I really do like tall men … sorry if that offends anyone, but some people like skinny, some fat, some muscly, some not so muscly, some tall, some short … you like what you like and I like tall … we’re not talking freaky giant here, we’re merely talking over 5’10”.  I have this limit not only because I like taller men but because anything under that and they tend to lie about their height for example, 5’8” is rarely 5’8” it’s more likely to be 5’6” (remember my friend Nicky who ended up with ‘Santa’s Little Helper’ on her doorstep?).  Men 5’10” and over don’t need to lie those under, do … that’s mine and about a dozen other women’s experience anyway!

So Mr VC I thought was passable because he was chunky, we’re talking VERY muscly here, which can sometimes make up for height (only sometimes) so I decided after a few emails to swap numbers.  Almost immediately I got one reasonably nice text from him then within seconds I get another with a picture attached… a picture of his car (which was a very nice cabriolet) with the caption, “I may let you have a ride in my car if you’re lucky and if you’re REALLY lucky I may let you drive it” my reply, “You’re alright love, I’ve already got one” It was the exact same car as mine!!!!

Now don’t get me wrong, my/our car is very lovely and I guess would be classed in the ‘executive’ range, but if you’re going to go bragging about your car, at least make sure that who you’re bragging to doesn’t have the same one!!  Blimey, it wasn’t like he had a Bentley Sport or a Ferarri!

So, I’m sorry to say, that put me right off him and actually made me think, “Little man making up for it with big car and trying to show off” (although what the car says about me, I hate to hazard a guess!) I also thought it was a bit patronising … “Look at me with my lovely car … I bet you can’t afford one of these little girly” … Wrong … NEXT! (Oh how I’ve missed saying that!)

I think I had one of those types before … he was 5’9” (so his profile said, he was actually 5'7") and drove a Jeep (Jeep Man!) remember? Ah well, plenty more fish and all that.  I’ve got tonnes more to tell you but you can have too much of a good thing in one day you know!

More tomorrow lovelies, until then, be fabulous!

Lots of love

Jx

 

Hot Yoga at The Yoga Lounge

 

 

Well lovelies, I wouldn’t be a good friend to my friend Nisha if I didn’t tell you about her new venture.  Nisha and her business partner Jane have just opened an amazing Hot Yoga and Pilates Studio in Manchester (UK).  I’ve never done hot yoga before, although I’ve done yoga (unknowingly for about 15 years or so I did yoga when I was dancing - yoga moves are used for ballet/dance warm up) and I started proper yoga classes about 10 years ago and I’ve been practising ever since.  So was actually quite excited when the girls finally the studio a couple of weeks ago and invited me to my first HOT yoga class.
 

Nisha is my oldest friend; we used to play together when we were children.  As you may guess from her name she is of Indian heritage (her father is Indian, her mother English) and has practised yoga since being a child.  She’s actually my inspiration.  She is THE hardest working, driven person I know and she is a brilliant role model.  She has trained all over the world and is continually striving to learn more in order to pass the benefits on to her clients.   She first opened a Pilates studio a number of years ago in our local town and has also been teaching yoga all over the North West (including training some of the country’s hottest football and rugby stars – including Everton) ever since.
 

So now you have the background, let me tell you a bit about my first hot yoga experience.  I rocked up at the studio on Deansgate, not really knowing what to expect.   After being asked to take my shoes off (no shoes are allowed past reception) I left my valuables in a little locker and proceeded to the changes rooms … did a quick change, walked along the corridor and into the ‘hot’ studio.  Now, I know it is a ‘hot’ yoga studio, but I don’t think I was quite prepared for quite how hot it was going to be … when I walked in, I promptly turned round and walked back out, deciding to wait outside until the class began (I wondered why there were so many people standing outside when I walked past ... Duh).
 

Our instructor was Suzie (and what a lovely person and great instructor!)  I had a really good chat with her after and asked tonnes of questions; she explained all about the benefits and how to get the best out of the classes.  Well, I can honestly say that I’ve never sweated so much in my entire life (which is a good thing!) and after about 10 minutes, I could really feel my muscles opening up.  I have to admit that it was really hard, but good hard.  The yoga moves weren’t too much and would have been easy to follow if you haven’t done yoga before, but equally as powerful for the more advanced … it was the hotness of the studio made a massive difference to my practise.
 

Unfortunately, I couldn’t finish the class and had to come out after about 50 minutes because I was just too hot, but apparently that’s quite normal for your first time – Suzie said that it can take a while for you to adjust to the heat and it’s quite alright to step outside if you feel you have to (although she did show me a great recovery position to try which opens up your lungs and helps you to breath more openly).  However, all things considered, I have to say that I LOVED IT and I’ve already been back and managed the full hour.  What was most surprising was that for the next couple of days after each class, my skin has been amazing.  Apparently that’s another bonus from the hotness of it all.  All that sweating gets rid of the toxins.
 

Before I went I was slightly worried about being in a room with so many sweaty people and the potential for germ transference, however, the heating system they have at the Yoga Studio is unique to the UK … it heats surfaces rather than the air and the carbon dioxide is sucked out and fresh air pumped in, massively reducing the chance of any contamination … brilliant and totally safe!

 
 

Hot and Sweaty at The Yoga Lounge, Manchester

 

All in all, it was a fantastic experience and one I can’t wait to try again.  If you haven’t tried yoga, especially hot yoga before, I strongly suggest that you give it a go.  It strengthens and elongates your muscles and makes you much more subtle … If premier footballers think it has fantastic benefits, who am I to argue!

 

 

In case you’re interested, here are the studio’s details:
 

http://theyogalounge.co.uk/
 

Until next time lovelies … be fabulous!
 

Lots of love
 

Jx

 

Evil Dead

 

This is another quick post ... I’d love to be telling you how exciting my weekend has been, but it’s not!  Yesterday, I had a lovely lunch/catch up with my cousin Phil (he’s like my big bro and I love catching up with him), I then went to the cinema to see Evil Dead.... hmmmmm.... and today, I’ve been to a rather boring seminar.  So not really the most exciting of weekends!

So let’s get right to it ... Evil Dead *** (3 Stars)

I must have seen the first one ... I must have, but I can’t recall it.  I didn’t really know what to expect from this version other than what I’d seen in the trailers and I’ve got to admit, this version wasn’t great.  It was unbelievably predictable.  It was very akin to Cabin in the Woods only that was done with a few more twists and a bit of panache.  This to me was totally clichéd and your basic slasher, blood and gore, teenage on the rampage type film.  No surprises, lots of blood and only one (minor) twist.

The story (as if you can’t guess) a group of kids end up at a disused cabin in order to aid one of them on a major cold turkey detox.  They smell something funny in the cabin, go into the cellar and find lots of dead animals hanging from the ceiling an ancient book encased in a plastic bag and covered with barbed wire.  The smart arse kid (there’s always one) decides to read the book and translate some of the words (big mistake ... massive!) and unleashes an ancient evil with devastating effects.

That’s it in a nutshell.  If you really like teenage slasher type movies (think Hostel etc), which I really don’t like and usually avoid at all costs, you’ll love this.  There’s nothing clever about it, there’s no real psychological edge to it, it’s just out and out gore ... and not that well done either.  Hey ho ... here’s the trailer, although it's not gory, if you get scared easily you may wish to give this a miss :-)

   

Right lovelies, that’s me for another day.  Speak soon, until then, be fabulous!

 

Lots of love

Jx