You've got to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.
This is the story of one woman dating 100 men in an effort to find Mr Right

What a dull way to end all of this! I suppose it was inevitable really. I know it could be more of a 100 frogs holiday but, at the moment, despite Prince number 1, Man number 11's love rivals, I'm just not interested in anyone else.

Man number 3 (Ed Norton) came round last night and I felt none of the attraction I had before. Man number 6 (Gere) also phoned and I felt the same. Nothing! Dead! (Put it this way, I managed to get rid of No 3 early on and was back in the arms of No 11 by 9pm.)

It might wear off. After all I am the most fickle woman on the planet. But, for now, I think it might all be over.

It's been an exciting time.

Here's my first ever post, written over four months ago:

They say that it's more difficult for a single woman in her 40s to find a partner than a woman in her 20s. Statistics prove this, apparently.

Well I'm 42, single, and am here to show that the only reason that it is ever difficult to get anything that you want is if you believe that it's difficult - if you believe the statistics.

I am about to go on a mission - a dating spree. An adventure in finding love. And I'm going to share that adventure with you. Over the next 100 weeks, I'm going to date 100 men and I'm going to tell you all about each date - how I met them, what they were like, why they were right or wrong for me, how I felt and if they're likely to be my soul mate or not. All names will be kept confidential, and all identifying material will be removed.

This is not just for women in their 40s but this is for anyone who sits back and lets themselves be told what they can and can't do. This is for people who don't want to just sit back and let life happen to them.

Why one hundred men? Why not? I can't just sit here and wait for my soul mate to turn up. He's not going to knock on my door in the middle of EastEnders and carry me off into the sunset. I have to go out and look for him.

So it just proves that I was right. I might have found my soul mate, I might not. Who knows? But if I haven't and it all falls apart, all I have to do is repeat what I've done here. There is absolutely no chance of a different outcome - if I had to do this again, I'd end up meeting someone sooner or later - AND I'd have a fantastic time on the journey.

You can always get what you want if you refuse to give up, never recognise failure and keep pushing through when things seem hopeless. This principle applies to anything - not just finding a partner. Try it and see for yourself.

You've got to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.
This is the story of one woman dating 100 men in an effort to find Mr Right

You'll have to forgive me if this doesn't make any sense. I've got a minging hangover

Anyway,

When I think something is as it is, there's always a new twist in this tale.

I was at the local pub yesterday and boyfriend (Man number 11) turned up. His ex girlfriend was there. He said he'd been round to her house and told her about us and she was fine with it but he'd promised not to 'rub her nose in it', meaning that he wouldn't be holding hands or being affectionate. When he left, he said: "Sorry I can't kiss you goodbye."

Is it me or should he be putting me first? I don't want to snog his face off in front of her - she seems like a really nice woman - but for him to not even give me a peck goodbye seems a bit strange to me. It kind of says: "You are lower down than my ex on the scale of importance."

Other than that he's been really lovely. He told me he thinks he's falling for me and that no one has ever had such a big impact on his life in such a short time.

But...

The thing is Man number 3 (Ed Norton who became my friend and got a girlfriend and then snogged my face off one night at my garden gate) rang me yesterday at the time of Man number 11's 'snubbing'. He's split up with his girlfriend and he wants to see me.

So I'm cooking him dinner tonight. He is my friend, so there's nowt wrong in this.

Is there?

My annoyance at No 11's mistreatment did fuel my decision to ask him round, but I like him anyway and I want to see him.

Oh, yes, and Richard Gere (Man number 6)keeps texting me.

Looks like 100 frogs is squashed but still alive!

You've got to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.
This is the story of one woman dating 100 men in an effort to find Mr Right

Right. Things have taken an unexpected turn. I have a boyfriend.

Man number 11 turned out to be a prince but it took a while for the Frog spell to wear off. He kind of sat there in his little green warty skin croaking away and then BAM! Suddenly there he stood – six foot four, swirling his ermine cape with a bejewelled crown atop his royal bonce.

I don't know what this means for this blog. Either it has to end or I can carry it on – because, to be honest, no one knows what’s going to happen with this thing as it's such early days.

He's whisked me off my feet a bit – and I can tell he's smitten. He skived the day off work to take me to the seaside on Tuesday and he can't seem to get enough of seeing me. He has asked me very nicely not to do any more internet dating and to give up this 100 Frogs lark. I'm sorry. I know this is bad news. But I can't refuse, can I?

Last night I revealed our secret relationship and the village is rife with gossip about us. We were out separately with friends and he gave me a hug at the bar in our local and the place fell silent. It was like The Slaughtered Lamb in American Werewolf In London. The barmaid's jaw dropped open her colleague had to help her to close her mouth. I heard someone behind me say: “How long has this been going on?”

And I went to meet my brother in a pub 20 minutes walk away and the people in there knew everything by the time I got there!

The villagers are revolting!

I could carry on reporting on how a lifelong commitment-phobic woman who's ended every single relationship she's ever been in gets on trying to stay in a relationship once and for all, in the face of village-wide disapproval and resistance.

It doesn't really go with the blog's theme, does it?

One good thing: I am very happy.

You've got to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.
This is the story of one woman dating 100 men in an effort to find Mr Right

I’ve been out with Man number 11. I met him in real life – in a bar, of all places. I’ve seen him before and we’ve ‘given each other the eye’ in the past. The funny thing about this is that he’s on the same dating site as me and instead of taking my number he took my username and contacted me via private message. Internet dating even leaks into real life!

Not really got anything entertaining or amusing to say really. He’s nice looking (looks like Paul Whitehouse but handsomer), he’s tall (over 6ft), and he seems quite nice. We weren't stuck for conversation.

Of course as the golden rule of dating insists, he probably fancies me because I was a bit reserved and he might think that I don’t fancy him.

I'm in two minds about whether to take this further because I know people that he knows and I do see him around the ‘village’. His ex and her friends don’t ever like girls he goes out with. What am I doing?

This could turn into a cat fight.

You've got to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.
This is the story of one woman dating 100 men in an effort to find Mr Right

Right. Here I am 10 men, I don’t know how many dates and almost four months into this ‘experiment’. There have been times when it’s been really exciting and times when I’ve felt like giving up. For about a week I’ve been thinking that I might have exhausted the supply of eligible men around these parts. The ones I’ve had contact with have been a bit ‘bottom of the barrel’ and I’ve had to put some effort into scraping it.

To show you what I mean, here’s an example of a recent message:

hi cheeky. what the hell aM I DOING i am supposed to be sweet talking you trying to get you in bed get ure knickers off blah blah blah i just cant be assed . can people not be friends and chat. don't get me wrong I'm good in the bedroom department(i ave been told and i have the teeshirt) i cant believe i had to get my thesaurus out to spell teeshirt is it one of them words or am i just thick. dont dont tell me i think i know night sweet dreams sexy ( trying to turn on the charm to cover that im a boring bastard) more kisses xxxxxnot actually men find that vulnerable trait very attractive makes them feel needed PLUS SHES GOT GOOD TITS no really just put that in to wind you up. (bet it worked!!!)xXx

That was the second message after one reply from me that was just a polite thank you for his first message.

Wha?

But, even after a spate of men who seem to belong more to some sort of care in the community scheme than a dating site, I’m NOT giving up! Failure is not an option. I’m sure if I just keep on pushing through this dry spot there will be a ‘strawberry patch of Gregory Pecks’* waiting for me with brooding eyes and pearly teeth, wearing wet shirts that cling, transluscent, to their ripped torsos, because they’ve had to jump in the lake for a swim to cool their unbearable passion for me.

No?

OK, at least someone I fancy who can have a conversation. Surely that’s not too much to ask?

I suppose this is a kind of milestone period – I’m up to a round 10 men and looking back it’s been quite an adventure. The result is that I’ve made two good friends (No 3, Ed Norton, No9 – my favourite one that went pear shaped – and am still dating No 6, Richard Gere). That’s not bad going I suppose.

I wonder what the next 10 men are going to bring. Let’s hope there are some sane ones left. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Anyone got any single mates?

* My favourite line ever from Ethel in EastEnders.

You've got to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.
This is the story of one woman dating 100 men in an effort to find Mr Right

On Sunday evening I went out with Man number 6 (Richard Gere) and what a contrast it was to the Man number 10 debacle! As ever, sophisticated and civilised No 6 took me out for dinner, then to a Belgian bar where we talked and slowly sipped a bowl of the most gorgeous beer I’ve ever tasted (it was like Demerera sugar).

He told me that he’s told his six-year-old daughter about me. (Gulp!)

I mentioned that I’d missed the last two episodes of Doctor Who and he said he had them recorded and suggested that we go back to his place and watch them. So we did. I sat on cushions on the floor and watched them both (God-like genius episodes, of course). He sat on the sofa and refilled my drink when it was empty and even stroked my hair! I had a really nice time.

It’s a very slow burning thing we’ve got going here – I only see him every few weeks but we’re becoming good friends and I feel quite relaxed with him. I don’t feel any anxious or overwhelming feelings of attraction but he is a lovely person and handsome in the extreme and it feels normal to walk along the street holding his hand.

Maybe my theory is right after all and we're slowly growing to like each other because neither of us seems anxious or over keen? I’m also quite reserved with him and I reveal myself a little bit at a time, which might seem more enigmatic than my usual spilling of my entire brain right out onto the table. I don’t know. It’s all good though.

Anyway, I’m due to go out with Man number 7 (fat Scouser) again later this week. :-) Wonder what's going to happen there?

Fickle? Who? me?

No I'm not.

What?

Stop it.

You've got to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.
This is the story of one woman dating 100 men in an effort to find Mr Right

I was in a bad mood when I wrote the last post – probably an indignant reaction to the rejection of Man number 9 (ouch!). I really can’t be bothered to play that game. I don’t think I could be that false anyway. There’s much too much effort involved.

So on we go in the same old trial and error fashion. Anyway, I didn't have to pretend I didn't fancy the next bloke!

Introducing Man No 10 (Lurch)

I had to cancel some plans and found myself left with not much to do on Saturday night so I went on my dating site and arranged a last-minute date with a completely new man (who became man number 10). We talked on the phone for five minutes and arranged to meet up at 7 o’clock.

He was VILE!

He was 6ft 3in aggressive, controlling bag of testosterone. He looked like Lurch from The Addams Family. He was thick, ignorant, bigoted, rude and nasty just the foulest person I’ve ever met in my life, physically and mentally. He slagged off all his other dates viciously. He told me that it was impossible for me to be friends men because: “It’s impossible for human beings to have genuine friendships with the opposite sex without there being sex involved.” He told me in detail how he’d had five one-night-stands out of seven dates and how one of them had breast implants, which he didn’t like the feel of (all said while staring without embarrassment directly at my tits).

Every time I said anything he would sneer at me and disagree with it.

Halfway through the second drink I said: “This isn’t working, is it?”
He said: “Shall we go after this one?”
I said: “Shall we go now?”
He said: “Yes, I’d much rather be at home watching television.”

Which was exactly what I was thinking! I missed Doctor Who to go out with that!

It makes me want to yak up just thinking about him.

Bleeeuuuuuuugggghhh!