FIVE FINGER FRIENDSHIP

A cousin once told me that people she could count her closest truest friend on one hand.  At the time, I must have been about 14, I thought she was mad and must be rather lonely with only four or five friends. I had plenty and couldn’t even imagine whittling them down to five.

As I got older and progressed through school and then to uni, I indeed found that I had an ever changing and evolving group of friends, with many promises to stay friends forever being broken and made again with people anew. I guess a lot of people cement their friendships at different times, and I thought I had found my dearest whilst trying to pass my degree at Portsmouth University. I was finally with people who I felt understood the real me. I had their back and they had mine. That was until I came back to London and my friends followed their own paths indifferent directions. Sure we tried to stay in touch and made a real effort to remain close. But once the easy access of living down the road from one another, and spending all our free time in our favourite hangouts together came to an end, our friendships soon became too much hard work and we stopped calling each other.

 

A few work colleagues and industry friends have made the transition to good friends, and a couple are now very dear to me, despite one of them moving twice in the last year and our friendship blossoming over Skype. But on the whole, work is work and play is play in job where personality is a business asset used daily. Sometimes in such lines of work, it is difficult to differentiate between real friendship and business affinity.

I don’t claim that this is the case for everyone, but I guess this is how I have come to understand what my cousin said to me then. I am so fortunate to have some amazing people in my life. I have great friends and a number of amazing personalities that I come across every day at work and popping up from my past. But I suppose that as I have grown and understood who I am, and have built up a sense of self and strength of character, the people who are dearest have become more apparent.  It’s the friend who still remembers the jokes from when we were five. It is the friend who can tell when I am in a mood and knows how to get my mind off it. In the company of my dearest friend I can bear their annoying mate and even treat him like a loved one. My closest mate is one I can’t go more than ten days without seeing. And those friends I will always have time for, as I presume they would for me.

I may be a social butterfly and have a lot of people I consider friends, and some I wish I didn’t have to. But my cousin is right, the few nearest friends keep me sane, safe and happy, and they are all I need. 

MR RIGHT - WHY FIRST DATES SHOULD START WITH DRINKS

I have learnt the hard way that when meeting a guy for the first time, do not commit to dinner straight of the bat. It is always better to meet for a drink and then leave time for dinner later, if things are going well. If they aren't, then finish the drink and call it a night.

I wish I had stuck to the rule when I met this guy online. He was cute, tall dark and handsome and I suspected that there was a great personality behind the looks. Oh how wrong I was. We met up and made our way to the restaurant for dinner. We ordered our food and began our conversation the way so many do, with enquiries about family, jobs and interests. I asked my tall date what he did for a living, and was pleased to find we work in the same industry. Asking how he got into it, I was a little taken aback to find that he had been forced into it. After a little probing, I was informed that my date never really wanted to work and that, WHEN HIS PARENTS SECURED HIM AN INTERVIEW, he would book tickets to visit friends up north, or even book flights to India to avoid securing a job. After realising that he wasn't joking, I was shocked. I have had to move around and work my butt off during the recession and here is somebody who has not determination or drive whatsoever. For me, there is nothing less attractive than somebody without a passion.

After this very early admission, I struggled to even make small talk let alone find something of interest. And in not just meeting for drinks, I was stuck waiting for my main course and dreading how the rest of the date would go. I tried to make small talk to see us through the rest of the evening. /but the final blow was dealt when Mr Unambitious told me how hilarious he found his grandmother's burping and farting habits. I wanted to put my fork down, grab my coat and ask for the bill, which I would have made him pay for. Not only did this good looking guy not want to work, he had no idea of social etiquette. How had I not picked up on this when we spoke before?

I know not every guy is like this, and hope that there are some single guys who know what not to say or do over dinner. But I think next time I will stick to meeting for a drink and taking it from there. 

FLYING WITH LITTLE ANGELS

I really do love children and someday hope to have my own.  I don't believe all of them are little angels like my oh so perfect cousin Aria, and I commend the parents that have to manage them day in day out.  That being said, there are times when my sympathy and understanding is tested to the limit, and often because exhausted parents aren't  thinking. 

On a recent morning commute into town, I boarded a busy train and was surprised to see two children no more than three or four years old with their mother, taking up four seats between them.  Rather than putting one of the boys on her lap or seating the two together one seat, the mother took up her own seat next, placed each of her children on their own seat with one between them to use as a ring for their action figures to wrestle in.  I suspect it was the rest of the commuters' stiff British upper lips that prevented them from speaking out. Even the pregnant woman standing nearby kept her mouth shut, probably all to aware that in a few years she would be in the same position. 

The mother of two should really know better, no matter how tired she may be.  I'm sure when she was pregnant she was offered a seat and shown kindness.  So why is it that for so many, travelling with young children gives free reign to thoughtless and sometimes selfish behaviour?  Thankfully an elderly lady told moved one of the children and took a seat. The mother looked mildly disturbed before realising she was in the wrong, not that she apologised or took any action to calm her now frustrated son. 

The mode of transport where my patience with children is most tested is on board a plane.  I know it's no fun for the parents either and youngsters need stimulation, so being stuck in one place means they will inevitably act up.  It is nobody's fault, but when I get miffed some parents pick up on it and get defensive. I am not having a go or pointing the finger, just getting agitated like their children.  A handful of parents feel that to avoid hearing their children screaming, I should book a seat in first class.  Frankly I don't see why I should pay double for the privilege of silence and a sleeping without their offspring slapping me across the face.

Now I think I have a solution.  If planes can be transformed into flying art galleries, than surely airlines can create a dedicated children's area, right by the mummy's rest seats with extra lumber support and massage function. 

Just imagine specially designed kiddie seats, equipped with play things to keep the little ones occupied.  The mini passengers can chose from a plethora of age appropriate programmes and movies.  And let's not forget the food served by dedicated members of the kiddie cabin crew, who can even let mummy know when the little one needs to be pacified and warm that milk ready for bedtime. 


Not only could the area help parents and children, but my journey can remain as kid free and calm as possible.  It might not be that feasible in the recession, but surely there are enough tired parents and disgruntled passengers who would opt for an airline that offers this service.  I'm sure Mr Branson or the good people at Emirates can afford to trial this in their summer flights, if only to give me one area where I can believe children are in fact perfect little angels.

MR RIGHT - SPEED DATING

I'm a bit of a romantic. I am still single and sometimes I feel like the only singleton in London with this much bad luck. In a possibly stupid and self-destructive bid to identify where I might be going wrong, I am sharing my search for Mr Right with you. And if he happens to be reading this, please ignore all the extreme opinions and  any incriminating posts, Its all lies I tell you, lies!

A recent attempt at finding Mr Right took me to a speed dating event. There are a number of groups designed for gay men to meet and network. Some concentrate on professional connections, others on more romantic link ups. I have been to my fair share of both and always leave feeling that I have spent too much time in my comfort zone, stuck with the group of friends I arrived with. On the off chance I do get into a conversation with someone, it isn't long before I am introduced to their boyfriend or a good mate they fooled around with a while back and may still have lingering feelings for. I'm not a therapist, and yet I always end up counselling somebody.


Urged on by friends, I decided to go to The List London's speed dating event. On a cold Thursday evening, I headed over to Jewel bar in Bank. Unlike other speed dating events, this one promised a date with every attendee. That is 30 three-minute dates. Now I can talk A LOT, but even for me this sounded excessive. I arrived and after a visit to the gents to check I looked presentable, I grabbed a very large glass of complimentary red wine and some from the finger buffet. I did a quick survey of the other guests and saw two or three out of the 30 that looked appealing. But I tried to keep an open mind as I took my seat and waited for date number 1 arrived.

When my first date took his seat I felt a mixture of dread and relief. I already knew my first date! In fact I had already dated him at an event once before and then again for dinner. He is a lovely guy and our previous meetings had gone well, but I just didn't fancy him. It was nice catching up and not half as awkward as I had imagined. It also reminded me that I'm not the only nice guy out there still trying to find a partner.


I worked through my three minute dates, trying not to ask the same dull questions. I think the best way to stand out from the 29 other dates is to ask something other than "what do you do?" or "where have you come from?" I opted for asking my quickie dates what their favourite book is, what one item they'd want if they were stranded on a desert island and what superpower they would most like to have. 

After getting over the shock of a 50-something Dutch yoga teacher telling me I had a sexy aura and stroking my face (PERSONAL SPACE), I had a date with number 11. He was 6ft, from Manchester with a cheeky smirk and a twinkle in his eye. I swear our date didn't last 3 minutes. Somebody must have tinkered with the timer. In the little time we had, we discussed his coming moving to London, his wanting to be able to fly like superman and our mutual love for cookery and museums.

In the first if three much needed breaks I tried to find the dashing Mancunian at the bar, but to no avail. I proceeded to chat with some new friends and returned to my seat to find out if his smirk could be topped. I met some nice guys, but none I felt any real connection to. Nonetheless, I still wrrote out some 'would like to get to know' invitations in the paper forms provided, so as not appear too picky. It's difficult to find mr right in three minutes and some nice guys might grow on me over time. The evening carried on and I met more nice people, but none that compared to Mr Smirky. 

At the end of the night, our lovely hosted quickly collected all the invitations and sorted them out there and then. Unline many other events, we only had to wait ten minutes or so before being handed an envelope with our results. Sadly I was not invited for a drink by the hot Manchester lad. I later saw him being chatted up by one of the dates I noted down as cute but too blonde.

The even was a lot of fun but I don't think I'll be doing it again soon. Sure it is fun meeting new guys, and bumping into a few familiar faces. But three minutes really is too short a time frame with too much urgency to make a good first impression. And after 29 dates I was about ready to take a vow of silence.

Thankfully the List London has a number of different events including an evening of drinks and shopping at the Ted Bake flagship store. I wonder if Mr Right will be picking out a suit...

UNCENSORED

You may have noticed that some post have been removed from this blog. The reason for this is that Rather Picky Ricky is now an independent blog, no longer governed by any companies. 

That's right folks.This is now MY blog,and mine alone. I promise to hereby share my views opinions and preferences no matter how frank and and brutal they may be. I'll still be sharing my tips, giving my advice and voicing my opinions, but now it is on my terms.

This also means that I am now open to suggestions from you, my lovely readers. What topics would you like me to discuss on here? Is there something I have discussed with you in person that you would like me to share on here? Or maybe you have seen or read something that you'd like to get my POV on. Let me know people, I'm no longer censored.

NOT EXACTLY TO PLAN

Sometimes things don’t work out exactly the way they were meant to.

After organising a lovely meal with friends to celebrate turning 28, sometimes a guest will opt to order off the set menu, and chose an a la carte dish that has to be pre-ordered. Sometimes, that very friend decides that he cannot make it after all, and cancels via text half an hour before he is meant to be showing up. Thankfully the lovely people at  @Siam were very accommodating and everyone else had a fantastic evening.

 

Sometimes, despite tasting amazing, the Patisserie Valerie Double Chocolate cake gets squashed in transit thanks to slippery fingers and the over-sized box it came in. Thankfully it still puts a smile on everyone’s face and even the fullest diners found room for a small helping.

Occasionally, bookings for the favourite bar in town gets deleted, and the bouncer eyes up the large very cold group, questioning whether it is a good idea to let them all in for free. Its impressive what one smooth talking guest and two birthday boys can achieve, and how quickly 20 people can get downstairs order cocktails at Freedom bar.

Sometimes, even with the most care in the world, keys get lost. Even on the evening where everything has been planned and carefully thought out, the car that was cleverly parked ahead of time opposite the club can instantly become inaccessible. Bags that were meant to be stored away have to be hauled into the club, whilst the offending key minder returns to the West End to search for the missing item.

Unfortunately the things that get lost in bars are never to be seen again. Despite all the help  and searching, there comes a time when the key minder has to call it a night and leave the birthday boy with the stationary car.

All too often, birthday mornings are spent worrying about the night before and how best to get home. Thankfully the mates that instantly offered their spare room for the night, make a cup of coffee and plans together, despite having to cancel their own. Often, it is best to just graciously accept the offer of a birthday brunch, rather than feeling awkward about not having left yet. Thankfully the eggs benedict served at the National Café by the gallery are so delicious, they provide a much needed sense of calm to an otherwise frustrating Sunday morning.

Often, the best afternoons are spent reading the paper, discussing world events and arguing about trashy pop culture. Now and then, the plan to check out the Turner exhibit at the Tate Britain gets cancelled because of a phone call. Often, a friend offering to carry all the heavy bags back over Battersea bridge, in the rain, is a reminder of how strong they are, and that they’re always there to lend a hand.

 More often than not, the solution to what seems like an impossible problem, is quite simple. It is reassuring to get a warm greeting from the man that comes to save the day, taking one very tired and soggy birthday boy, a squashed cake and a locked car back home in time for a birthday dinner.

Sometimes things don’t go exactly as they were meant to. Despite planning everything and feeling organised, things get in the way and cause it all to unravel. I suppose the best advice is to be prepared for anything, and accept what can't be prepared for. 

Maybe next year that friend won't get an invite. And the mate who can effortlessly lift heavy bags can collect the cake. Next year the car stays at home, or the keys stay with somebody sober. The number of a local taxi company will be saved in a phone that doesn't leave this birthday boy's side. And a spare clothes will be packed just in case generous friends have to be imposed on again.

No matter what happens, however frustrating, I'm thankful that true friends and loved ones are there to lend a hand. Good friendship can't be planned or organised. Maybe next year, this picky person will concentrate more on celebrating real friendship, and less on a perfectly executed day.

VALENTINE'S FOR ONE

Valentine’s Day is a little over a week away, and shops are already full of cutesy cards, sparkly red hearts and a variety of red roses. This is arguably the second most celebrated day in the calendar and gives couples, who feign disinterest in 'made-up holidays', full reign of the restaurants and moonlit streets everywhere, leaving singletons to feel inadequate. Should the holiday fall on a weekday (Thursday this year) you can bet the festivities will stretch all the way to Sunday night.

So why do we single people have to be subjected to having massive heart-shaped bouquets of roses flaunted in our faces, after spending the day at work listening to colleagues gush about their romantic plans? It doesn't seem fair that only couples should indulge. 

So last year I decided  to make a stand and reclaim the streets, and my favourite table at that restaurant I like with the help of some friends. We decided to go for dinner and drinks in a bid to celebrate being single. But when I called to make a reservation, I was informed that the restaurant would only be serving a Valentine’s set menu which included a chocolate fondue for two. I was so disappointed that such a nice place could stoop so low. Had it not occurred to them that other people, besides couples, like their food too?

Nonetheless we persevered and settled on another venue, one that lacks romance and promotes fun. A place that serves comforting and indulgent food not reserved only for pairs. Thankfully Bodean’s BBQ Smokehouse off Oxford Circus never fails to deliver.

This year I’m staying at home whilst my parents go out for a romantic meal. I’m not hiding away, but choosing to mark Valentine's day by treating myself. No Asda Twosie for me. My Valentine’s plans for one will include donning the onesie, and creating a lovely meal for myself. No bacon roses or chocolate hearts here. No I will be opting for something I can enjoy without having to worry about eating daintily or in small portions.  Thickly cut sweet-potato chips with plenty of homemade guacamole and garlic sauce. And for dessert, a large portion of Belgian Chocolate Haagen Dazs ice cream, eaten out of the tub because I don’t have to share.

A big no-no for any singleton on Valentine’s is mixing alcohol with romantic films. Much better to stick to soft drinks. I currently have an addiction to Del Monte Occasions, a range of juice drinks that appeal to a more grown-up palette. The Orchard Zest flavour, with apple grape and lemongrass, tastes amazing! I'll will not be pairing my alcohol-free cocktail with a rom-com. I'll stick to films that don’t revolve around two friends who spend ages going back and forth never really being happy until they profess their love for each other just before the credits start to role. I will probably opt for psychological thrillers, or horror.

If you do happen to indulge in alcohol, please hide your phone. The last thing you want to do is ring the ex in a less than sober state, on what is meant to be the most romantic day of the year. It will only make matters worse, especially if the date is out on a romantic date. I also don’t want to get disturbed by anyone. This is my night and I am not going to let anyone ruin it. I love the ‘Do Not Disturb’ function on the iPhone, which means only a permitted list of contacts can call.  

The MySpa by Homedics FootSpa has been ordered, a Valentine's gift to myself that will give my feet a little TLC.  Fingers crossed that, when greeted by the tired, disheveled and hungover partnered friends and colleagues on February 15^th, a little papering will ensure I have a spring in my step too.

Valentine’s Day doesn’t just have to be for couples. It’s the perfect day for a little bit of indulgence and a reminder that there is nothing wrong in being single, and in a onesie

THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING

I always appreciate the time people take in selecting a gift for me. This is no easy task, and one I am finding increasingly difficult to do for loved ones. February is a particularly busy month full of celebrations and my own birthday. With it comes the task of picking gifts, and returning those that my friends hoped I would like.

Unless I really know someone very well, and in most cases even then, it is hard to pick something they will really appreciate and use. Sure there are the safe options, like their favourite perfume, or a shirt they liked the last time you went shopping together. But even then, there's the risk that three other people have bought exactly the same item for them. Which is why I am so thankful that so many stores provide a gift receipt. That way the friend can go back and exchange the unwanted present for something they will like. The gift receipt lets the recipient know that you won't be offended should they not like the gift you carefully chose.

What frustrates me is when well-wishers give carefully selected gifts without the receipt. I can’t exchange the dull brown jumper and I certainly won’t be wearing it. If I asked the person for a receipt, I run the risk of offending them. So instead I choose to re-gift. It saves having to find room in my closet for another item I won’t wear and I don't have to to shop around for that friend’s birthday. 

Being a good re-gifter is all about organisation. I keep a list of the items I get that I don't want, and the people who gave them to me. I always have gift bags and tissue paper from Scribbler at the ready so I don't have to spend ages wrapping. And I make note of who I have passed the gift on to, so that I can avoid any confusion and keep up the pretense that I bought their new favourite scarf. 

I must admit I've become somewhat of an expert at re-gifting. I now know which person will give me a present that will suit another friend better. So much so that on occasion I don’t even check for the gift receipt. And should either the initial gift-giver or the recipient ask, I'd like to think I could cleverly talk myself out of coming clean. Heaven forbid they should meet with the recipient wearing the very item I re-gifted. 

The best gift for me is a voucher to use at one of my favourite shops. I know this might sound cold and impersonal. But thanks to Facebook friendships and the ease with which they can be maintained in the digital age, there are more social functions to attend than ever before. And the most efficient way for a friend to show me they care is giving me the choice to select and item I really want. Sure there are exceptions to the rule. If a friend knows that my favourite scent is Lacoste Pour Homme, or decides to order my favourite orchid from interflora, than this is spot-on and they know my taste. These few can be trusted to get it right.

The biggest mistake is to buy a gift based on the very little you know about the recipient in the hope that it is enough that they will like it. I would much rather have received a voucher than the three copies and poster of Brokeback Mountain. 

The friends, who I'm sure meant well, did not select the movie based on my taste in film, nor my appreciation of the director's previous work. It was a shot in the dark based on the genre of the film. This only highlighted how little we knew each other, or how sloppy they are at re-gifting. Thanks to ebay, I was able to get the books I'd actually hoped wanted and three bidders got to appreciate Jake and Heath. But this situation could easily have been avoided by opting for a Zara or Bannatyne's Spa gift voucher. And if your particularly strapped for cash, KGB Deals has some great beauty treatments or experience days at fantastic value.  

So this year I hope that I will only get the minimum re-gift gifts required to cover the birthdays I'm attending. And I already have my eye on a couple of sweaters and bags to spend those Topman and Zara vouchers on.

THE MOST IMPORTANT MEAL OF THE DAY

It's the most important meal of the day. But recent studies suggest an increasing number of people skip breakfast altogether. Whilst I am guilty of not always choosing the healthiest option for my morning meal, or even having a full breakfast, I still try to get something in to keep me going.

I often hear people blaming a lack of time for skipping breakfast. But it really doesn't require much to get the food you need. Even grabbing breakfast bars, the right ones mind, can help keep you fueled  I am currently obsessed with nakd bars, which are made up of fruit and nuts smooshed together. There is no added sugar and they are wheat and dairy free, so everyone can enjoy them. My favourite is the gingerbread flavour which really wakes up the taste buds.

A lot of companies don't mind people eating at their desk. I normally write my daily to-do-list, whilst eating an Oat So Simple express porridge pot by Quaker Oats. Toast is great, especially with peanut butter. But it’s just not as filling. And cereal is fine, but so much of it is processed and can end up tasting too sweet. The porridge pots are great because they're wholesome, filling and all I have to do is add hot water. It really couldn't be less time consuming.

I love milk, but rarely do I fancy a cold glass of it first thing in the morning.  I much prefer hazelnut milk. The taste is best described as a mildly rich nuttiness, but without that overpowering dry sensation. It is much smoother than rice or soy milk, so try it out. I normally pick up Tesco’s own label, but Alpro’s offering tastes fantastic too.

I’m also becoming a fan of oat milk, This has a pleasant unsweetened flapjack-like taste, and works really well in hot drinks. ProVitamil’s Oat Drink is great because it's not only low-fat and unsweetened, it's also enriched with calcium and vitamins D and B. So it’s a pretty good drink to kick-start the day.

The mere thought of a fry-up is enough to make my stomach turn. I know it’s a dish much loved by the nation, but I don’t particularly like the smell of cooked fat and grease so early in the day. No, my ideal hot breakfast is a little more refined. For me, nothing beats eggs benedict. A lightly toasted muffin, succulent thick cut ham, on top of which sits a beautiful poached egg happily covered in hollandaise sauce. No other dish can give me such satisfaction in the morning.

If, like me, you often make a mess when attempting to poach eggs, then try the Poachpod® from Lakeland. It makes the job so much easier. And who has time to make the sauce. Just pick up a jar hollandaise sauce with a hint of lemon by Maille and slather it on.

On the mornings when I can’t face food (yes it happens), I still need something to keep me going ‘til lunch.  Of course coffee helps, and so does fruit. I always have some clementines to hand so I can get in some vitamin C. However a recent study suggests that another fruit might be better at keeping hunger pangs at bay. 

Research carried out at Queen Margaret University, has found that an extract from pomegranates makes people less hungry, and even results in eating smaller portions. But instead of rushing to buy pomegranates (very hard to cut in the office) try PomeGreat instead. The extract is unique ingredient in all their juice drinks and they taste fantastic. I particularly like their pomegranate and cherry juice blend. Find out more about the PurePlus®  extract here. 

So there you have it. This is my pick of the best and easiest breakfast food to fuel me up for the day ahead. I hope that if you normally skip breakfast, you’ll try to squeeze in some of my picks to see you through to lunchtime.

KITCHEN GADGETS - FOR WHEN A KNIFE JUST WON'T DO

I have a real passion food, and for cooking. One of the perks of living at home is free use of my mother’s large fully stocked kitchen, overflowing with spices and fresh exotic vegetables all at my disposal.

My mother enjoys cooking too, almost as much as she enjoys buying random kitchen utensils to make kitchen chores that little bit easier. We even go to the Ideal Home Show every year to buy these supposedly life changing items, only to get bored of them six months later.

Thankfully I can say that I have not and probably never will buy any of the following gadgets. They are my pick of the weirdest and most useless kitchen items.

BANANA SLICER
Don’t you hate it when you want to slice a banana, but for some reason, a knife just won’t work? Well then buy a Kitchencraft banana slicer. Slice a whole banana in seconds, because traditional methods are so time consuming. Order yours now! £6.29 from wayfair.co.uk 

BANANA GUARD

If you really are in a rush and have to take the whole banana with you, pack it in it’s own case. Because there is nothing wrong about pulling something shaped like this out of your bag at the office or at lunch break. Protect your banana, get a guard at Lakeland.

TWIRLING SPAGHETTI FORK

I initially thought this could only be a novelty item. But then I was informed that this is great for the elderly, who have trouble twirling their forks. Surely spaghetti can be cut. Whilst brilliant in theory, the automated Twirling Spaghetti Fork makes a complete mess if it isn't dipped all the way into the noodles. That's bolognese sauce everywhere... And what happens if the batteries run out midway through the meal? Lakeland was selling them at £5.99 each, but have since discontinued the range. Back to the traditional fork then. 

ELECTRIC LIGHT UP PEPPER MILL 
I actually think the majority of Salter products are very good. Their kitchenware range by Heston Blumenthal is paticularly striking and helpful. 

But this is the company behind the electric salt and pepper mills that light up when you're seasoning. Why pray tell might this be a good idea? Do many people use these items in the dark or areas with poor lighting? Or are we just that interested in how much and where exactly our seasoning is falling? According to Tesco, it is ideal for candlelit dinners. Yes, because nothing says romance like a buzzing sound and spotlights on our food. 

THE SCIZZA
An average of 1643 pizzas are consumed in Britain every day. Surely then we should be able to cut pizza using a knife, or a rolling pizza cutter. But for those of you that still don’t get how these two items work, there is the pizza scissors, or 'scizza'. Much like the over-sized helpful items from kindergarten, these scissors mean that hungry carb-loaders can snip slices, or even create origami creations with their dinner. Throw away the knives and  order yours  for £19.95 

ONION GOGGLES
I hate cutting onions as much as the next person. Yes it upsets my eyes. But if you don’t want to wear a £23 pair of goggles from John Lewis, pop your onion in the freezer half an hour before cutting. It works a treat and saves you looking like an absolute idiot / snowboard instructor in the kitchen.

TAPI 
My favourite of these items is the little device that turns a simple tap into a water fountain. That’s right, sometimes a glass won’t do, and heaven forbid cupping a mouthful of water into your palm! Just attach The Tapi and you have an instant water fountain, like the ones that everyone uses in the gym, or were commonly found at school playgrounds.  This is much more hygienic.

What weird and useless products have you seen? Do you have any of these or others lurking in your kitchen cupboards? Or do you think any of the above are actually useful?

Right, I’m off to practice cutting pizza and slicing bananas.

KISS KISS?

Recent research suggests that people in the UK are a lot more openly affectionate than they were 100 years ago. Now I am no expert on the matter, but it doesn't take a genius to see that we are very tactile with one another. I doubt this was the case thirty years ago when my mother was my age, let alone 100 years back. 

I can’t deny that I am a tactile person too. I hug friends, and offer reassurance by touching their wrist or stroking their arm during conversation. It comes naturally to me, and I was completely unaware of it until a friend pointed it out to me. According to him I have always shown affection in this manner, and apparently it isn't something everyone does. But it isn't forced or done in an inappropriate manner. And I know when to hold back and not invade somebody's personal space.

Whilst I see nothing wrong with this behaviour, I get very frustrated when I witness too much affection displayed in public, normally between couples. I'm not just talking about holding hands and stroking arms here. It might be the singleton’s green eyed-monster rearing its ugly head, but I have been much more aware of just how openly affectionate couples can be. I’m pretty sure if I was out in public with a significant other I wouldn't display my affection so openly, would I?



I was recently on a busy morning train into town. There were a number of commuters packed in so this particular couple had to stand quite close to one another. But then out of nowhere, the man brushed his girlfriend’s hair to one side and started planting kisses on her neck. Now one little peck is fine, but a continuous barrage of kissing that caused the young lady to giggle and squirm really is too much, especially at 8:45 in the morning. Some people haven’t even had their breakfast yet. I am not being a prude, but there really is a time and place for such things. Surely holding you loved one’s hand will suffice before you part ways to go to work. Does the whole carriage need to watch as you mark your territory? Or do they both enjoy the titillation of having their morning ritual witnessed by so many? Either way, it was not appreciated. 

And it is not just couples who I have witnessed showing more affection. When I am introduced to somebody, I normally shake their hand. But at a dinner last week, I was momentarily taken aback when three people I had never met in my life proceeded to kiss me on both cheeks. I am not reserved at all and frequently greet friends with a kiss on the cheek. But I know these people.  I had no idea who these casual cheek-kissers were, or what germs they carried. It left me feeling awkward and obliged to carry on the custom with everyone else I met at the dinner. I felt like an extra In Channel 4’s Made In Chelsea, littering fake affection everywhere. 

I was reminded of President Obama and the First Lady’s visit to the UK a couple of years back, where they planted a continental kiss on the cheeks of David and Mrs Cameron. It came so easily to the visiting Americans. But both the PM and his missus just looked awkward. Maybe they ought to watch this video and rehearse a little before the Obamas next come to visit.

There are some shifts in affection however, that I'm happy to see. In 2011, whilst on a Royal tour of Canada, Prince William and the Duchess of Cambridge openly hugged one another on a boat in front of the international media. This is in stark contrast to any other Royal couple before them, who have remained reserved and somewhat rigid in the public eye. Surely this freer public affection has played a large part in winning over the public. 

Yes we are closer as a nation, and I think that is great. But there are some signs of affection that maybe shouldn't be shared out openly and with everyone, thereby devaluing them. Besides, we’re British. Aren't we famous for our stiff upper lip? Or has this been softened with chap-stick?