In which I write a letter to myself, aged sixteen

When I started this blog, I was in a confusing place. Newly single for the first time in, well, ever, I had a lot of soul searching to do. I called it Goodbye Ruby Tuesday because I felt I was at a major turning point in my life, saying goodbye to the girl I had been for so long and saying hello to... someone new. I didn't know then who that person would be.

A little over a year on, I feel like a whole new woman. It wasn't long ago that I told Forces Wife I felt I was "still making all the same old mistakes", but I finally feel as if I'm growing up. And with that new found sense of wisdom, I thought I'd tackle something I have been wanting to do for a while... a letter to my sixteen-year-old self:

Dear R*,

You're sixteen, and you think you're a grown up, so I know you're not going to listen to a single word I have to say. At 27, I am officially too old to "understand you" - it's all such a cliche, isn't it? Regardless, I'm about to tell you a few things that will make your life a whole lot easier:

You're not going to do that well in your GCSEs. I know, awful right? Well, not really... sure, mum will go mental (more on this later) but let's face it, you're pretty lazy and you're not that interested in most of your subjects. But don't worry, you'll pull it out the bag for your A-Levels. Having done next to no work this time around, you'll work really hard for those and get the grades you need to get to your first choice university. (Drop biology the first chance you get though - a D at AS-Level is worth about two beans to the university admissions board, and you'll get more free periods to play UNO with Forces Wife work on your Psychology coursework.)

This year, you will meet your first love. He's wonderful. You will have some wonderful times together, and some mind-blowing sex. But remember, he's just your first love, he's not your only one. Between you, you'll royally screw it up in a couple of years. Enjoy it though - he does love you, you do love him, you're just young. Maybe consider breaking up before you start uni though. Just a suggestion.

I know that you and mum hate each other right now. This year will be the worst. It'll all start to improve when you turn 18, and you'll actually move back home for almost five years after university. (Seriously - houses are a lot more expensive than you imagine.) When you have your heart broken for real at 25, she will be your rock. Just remember this - she only wants what is best for you, but she is only human. She makes mistakes too.

The biggest mistake mum ever makes will have a disproportionate effect on your self esteem. Please try not to let it define you. If you take it to heart, it will take you more than ten years to deal with the repercussions. A few days after you get those disappointing GSCE grades, you'll both be going to see some very high achieving friends of yours and their mothers. Mum is embarrassed by your comparatively low grades. This is her issue, not yours. She will tell you to "make an effort" because "at least you're prettier than them" - the implication being, of course, that you are relatively lacking in all other areas. This comment will lead to you defining yourself by your looks for many years. One day in more than a decade's time, you will wake up and realise that you have been relying on men who do not deserve you at all to validate you. If you could realise this now, you'll save yourself a lot of misery and heartache.

On a related point - don't cheat. It will never, ever bring you happiness. You are ok on your own. Don't self destruct in that way - just end your floundering relationships the right way and move on. Maybe sleep with a couple less people too. The number of people you sleep with is nothing to be ashamed of... it's just... well, maybe just avoid the ugly ones, ok? And your university housemates. That ain't ever going to work out well.

Keep in touch with your friends. Someone you aren't that close to now will be your rock in the most difficult time of your life. In fact, aged 27, the vast majority of your close friends are people you already know. Treasure that. I don't know whether I should tell you this, but the man who you will love throughout your early twenties and who will eventually break your heart is also someone you know already. In fact, you snogged him quite recently. Yep. Him. It won't work out, but he will teach you so much about yourself. Be kind to him.

Generally, your life won't work out quite how you imagine. You'll have some setbacks at work - but you will be doing a job you enjoy and are good at, so just focus and move on. When you do eventually buy a house, it won't be with a man, and this might temporarily feel like a bad thing, especially when all your home-owning friends have done it with partners. But hey, you can't even imagine how good it will feel to do that all by yourself. You won't be married by 27, and yes, several of your friends will be, but you'll have an incredible man in your life and for now that's enough for you. And you won't be pregnant by 30... or at least I bloody well hope not!

So that's what you need to know. Respect yourself, be true to yourself, work hard, and have fun. It will all turn out ok.

Lots and lots of love,

R x

*Also, the blog name references Ruby Tuesday because she shares my initials. Oh yeah. Not just a pretty face.

In which love is in the air

Despite owning a pile of rom com DVDs as tall as I am, I'm struggling to think of any films where the main characters actually say the words "I love you". I suppose they don't need to - in the movies, all it takes is a kiss, or even just a look, and intentions are clear. In real life, intentions aren't necessarily so clear, even to the person who says those three little words. Maybe you know that you love a person, and have been waiting for the perfect moment to tell them; maybe you are scared you will lose them, and say it to stay on the safe side; or maybe the words just slip out, while you're, ahem, otherwise engaged.

Yes, I told Future Husband I loved him. Yes, I did it while my mind was on other things. Yes, that is a euphemism. I don't know who was more surprised, me or him. I suspect me. Where the hell did that come from? Afterwards, I put it down to a strong friendship and even stronger hormones, and he was gracious enough to let me, but I worry that now I've said it, I've played my hand far, far too early. It didn't put either of us off our stride at the time, and in fact we had another wonderful weekend, filled with kisses, dopey grins, red wine and pizza eaten in bed. Now though a week has passed, and I have barely heard from him. This first bit of a relationship has always been my favourite, but I'm beginning to think I've finally grown up - I'm missing the security of knowing how someone feels about me, and I'm bored of game playing.

Three days and two hundred and fifty miles after my indiscretion, I watched two people who have done away with all the games pledge their undying love to each other. Forces Wife is now a real wife, having tied the knot with her lovely man under an uncharacteristically blaring sun in a pretty Northern seaside town. She looked so beautiful and happy it brought tears to my eyes, and I even forgot to be jealous (for most of the day, anyway). This couple have got love and happiness nailed. They know they have faults, but adore each other all the same. They are independent, but happiest together. They respect each other, and respect their relationship. They would never do anything to hurt each other, because they know how lucky they are to have found one another.

Watching them smiling their way through a clumsy first dance routine, oblivious to anyone but each other and just so happy to be together, I thought of us ten years ago, where every relationship was a drama and we never thought we'd find true love. I'm thrilled that things have changed for at least one of us!

In which I wonder what it means to be single

It is three months since the Former Love of my Life and I made the decision to split up, and it feels like three years. I still feel like I'm drowning if I think about him too much... but I've realised that I'm going to be ok. I don't know when, or if, I'll ever wake up and not care about him, but I've realised that even when something heartbreaking happens, life is good. And I've learnt a few things about being single:

1. Girlfriends are the best. A girlfriend told me that the only possible reason that The Brazilian hadn't called is that he'd died. When I told her he'd updated his Facebook profile that morning, she told me I was in denial. I laughed so much I forgot to be sad.

2. You have more friends than you think. I have driven to Wales to spend the bank holiday with a dreadlocked uni friend, been clubbing with a girl I haven't seen since I was 10 and her hilarious friends, watched the Royal Wedding with friends I've seen every few months since I was four, and been to a gig with a Twitter friend I'd never met before. And that's just the start of it.

3. You meet men everywhere - but you might not care. When I was in a relationship, I thought I might be missing something, or someone. Now I realise I probably wasn't. There are gorgeous, kind, sweet men everywhere (as well as some grade A tossers) but most of them aren't for me. I'll wait for someone exceptional, thanks very much.

4. Bathtimes are depressing. God knows why, but I've lost count of the number of times I found myself crying in the bath. Often I accompanied the crying by mournfully singing Adele songs. Maybe it's a rite of passage for the broken hearted. Exercise damage limitation and don't take a glass of Pinot to the bathroom with you.

5. On a related note, Pinot is depressing too. Drink Martinis instead. You might fall off your stilettos and graze your knees like a schoolchild (hypothetically, of course) but you're less likely to end up sobbing under the duvet.

6. You can be really, really selfish. It's awesome. When I was in a relationship, mine was the "sensible car", with five seats and boot space. I've since bought an apple green convertible. I also bought clothes I knew my ex would hate, and had my hair cut the way I wanted it for the first time. Can you believe I'd never decided on my own hair cut without wondering if a guy would like it? Jeeeeezus.

7. You will remember what you actually like. I have listened to Adele's new album pretty much every day, I have watched the Sex and the City movie about six times, and I've filled the gaps in between with the Cold Feet box set and a pile of books. Oddly enough, I haven't watched a single episode of Top Gear.

8. You can plan for a future which is all about you. Yes, I hope to get married one day, but before then I plan to buy my own flat, with money I have saved up, and decorate it however I like. Pink, probably.

9. You should buy a Rabbit. Don't ask questions, just do it.

10. Being single is a permanent state of hopefulness. You could meet your next Great Love anywhere you look. He might be your best friend, or the guy you meet at the bar, or someone you work with, or the drummer in the band, or Prince Harry. Tonight might be the night you meet him. Or it might just be the night you drink fifteen Martinis and graze both your knees.

In which I agree to a date I don't really want to go on

I've been a bit quiet of late, what with the two bank holiday weekends, a trip to Wales, a hen do, a new car and a promotion all happening in the last two weeks! I've been far too busy writing angry letters to banks and insurance companies (a bit of a speciality of mine - I should start a sideline in professional complaints) to have any time left over for blogging, and with so much going on, I haven't really known where to start...

Future Husband* went on holiday last week, but spent the whole week texting me. When he got back, we spent nearly two hours on the phone. I even told Forces Wife about my feelings for him, as he was her first love, and under normal circumstances I wouldn't go near a friend's ex for all the shoes in Louboutin. She told me to go for it, bless her. I didn't think she'd be upset, especially considering that she is marrying a wonderful man is in less than a month, but I felt very uneasy about it all the same. It's a weight off my shoulders to have her blessing.

So FH and I are slowly maneuvering our twenty-two year relationship into new and much more dangerous waters. I haven't seen him since our amazing weekend together, partly due to his holiday, and partly due to the fact that (I have now remembered) he is wholly unreliable. I was supposed to be seeing him today in fact, but he went out last night and didn't wake up until three. Maybe this is why we're not together! Still, I'm excited to see where this might go, despite the fact he's a mature student who's incapable of setting an alarm.

In the meantime, I found myself agreeing to a date with a man who is incredibly Good On Paper. I met him at birthday drinks for one of my lovely colleagues, we hit it off, and the following day he asked my friend for my number and texted to ask me out. He's thirty-something, works in IT, drives a BMW, owns his own flat... and I don't fancy him at all. It's not that he's unattractive - he's actually lovely, and really fit - but I'm just not feeling the spark. However, in the name of playing the dating game, I found myself saying yes to post-work drinks next week. It doesn't sit that well with me considering the situation with FH, but that's almost why I agreed to it - it would be easy to start treating FH as a boyfriend, and he isn't. Yet. Still, I feel a bit bad for leading Good On Paper Guy on when I'm fairly certain there won't be a second date, but isn't that what being single is all about? Meeting people, having a laugh, enjoying each other's company for a while...

So we shall see. Neither the date with Good On Paper Guy nor the next meeting with Future Husband have been confirmed yet, and with my recent track record I won't be putting any money on either of them actually taking place!

*I'm beginning to wish I'd chosen a different moniker... 'Future Husband' has lost its irony in recent weeks!

In which it turns out that all is not quite what it seems

Today was a beautiful day, and with the bank holiday weekend almost upon us, my team decided to treat ourselves to lunch in the sunshine. Wandering back to the office with two of my colleagues, the conversation turned to the colleague who (unbeknown to them) recently asked me out, and the fact that he is dating my schoolfriend.

"Really?" questioned my brunette colleague. "He's seeing someone?"

"Mmm," I responded with forced nonchalance. "It's early days, but he seems to like her. I think he cooked her dinner the other night."

Brunette raised her eyebrows and replied, slightly frostily, that she supposed that it was a good thing he was looking outside of the office for once.

Obviously, my interest was piqued, so I questioned this. "Ooh, no-one you know," replied Brunette, who has worked at The PR Agency for a lot longer than me. "I think he had a thing with someone who left last year, and, well... we did exchange a couple of emails."

I glanced at her but she was staring pointedly ahead. "Um..." I ventured. "I exchanged a couple of emails with him too." Now Brunette looked round, so I continued with a wry smile, "He asked me out."

"He asked me out!" said Brunette, looking surprised.

Now I wondered what I'd gotten into, so I quickly explained that he'd cancelled on me. "He's cancelled on me five times!" said Brunette, now starting to laugh. Just as we thought it could get worse, our companion chimed in, "He hit on me too."

Brunette and I both turned to stare at Blonde, who is married! "We went for lunch," she continued, "and afterwards he emailed saying he knew it was inappropriate, but he thinks I'm really great."

By this point we were all in stitches. "He sent me that same email!" I squealed. "But without the bit about it being inappropriate!"

"He's probably got a template set up in Outlook!" laughed Brunette, and we all dissolved into fits of giggles.

Further investigation suggests that he's been 'involved' with Brunette the longest, with Blonde coming in a couple of months ago and me most recently. We haven't checked the dates exactly, but it seems there may have been some cross-over between Brunette and I - it's not impossible that he was emailing us on the same days. We've decided to put out a few feelers and see if anyone else has been in any way involved - it seems likely, don't you think?! You have to have a grudging respect for him really. He's been putting a lot of trust in the idea that we won't talk to each other about it... either that or, as Forces Wife suggested, he's completely shameless!

The gentleman in question is leaving work in a couple of months, so we have plenty of time to plot our revenge. We'd like to bring to his attention the fact that he's been caught out... and preferably in a fairly public way! As he's dating someone, we don't want to go down the obvious route of asking him out and then all turning up, in a John Tucker Must Die type scenario, but we've got plenty of time to think of an alternative... and if you have any ideas, I would love to hear from you!

In which it is my birthday

It could have been a recipe for disaster. Recently single, living back at home with my parents, and officially closer to thirty than twenty, I must admit I had some reservations about my birthday. Don't get me wrong, I love birthdays. All that cake and alcohol, and people buying you nice things you don't need. This year though, I'd had to cull my present list a few weeks before the event (an espresso machine ceases to be the perfect gift when you no longer have a kitchen) and I'm still at that stage where a few glasses of wine lead to inconsolable sobbing after lights out.

As it happened though, I had a wonderful day. Best Mate and I caught the train to London, where we ate cupcakes and fancy pizzas. I also had my first ever facial, and a bellini with my lunch. Perfect.

That evening, I came home and shared a Chinese takeaway with The Family and Eldest Brother's Girlfriend, who I adore. We listened to American Anthems (THREE CDS!) and my brothers did a superb (if disturbingly high pitched) rendition of Journey's Don't Stop Believin'. The Girlfriend and I polished off two bottles of Pinot Grigio and generally had a lovely time.

Just as I was heading off to bed, I felt that familiar wave of slightly drunken melancholy wash over me, but then I got a text message from The Journalist. The Journalist and I have, shall we say, a mutual appreciation for each other, but he has a girlfriend and until recently I had a boyfriend. However, a text to wish me a happy birthday and tell me he still thinks about me wasn't entirely unwelcome, and managed to head off any Bridget Jones impressions.

The following day I put on my best dress and headed out for dinner with some of my very favourite people: Best Mate and her fiancé picked me up on the way, Forces Wife and her fiancé came down from Lincoln, Cousin and his girlfriend left the baby at home for the first time, and The Hostess With The Mostest kindly left her husband at home as well, preventing me from being the only single person at my own party. We ate exotic meat (ostrich anyone?), drank copious amounts of red wine, and then nearly broke our ankles climbing over a wall on our way to drink more red wine. Best Mate bought me a cupcake cookery book, Forces Wife's fiancé bought me a pashmina from Afghanistan, and even Geordie Lass sent me a care package of chocolate, wine and girly DVDs. The whole weekend was perfect, and reminded me that my friends and family are some of the best in the world. Thanks boys and girls - you really are something special.