The best advice

I'm going slightly stir crazy at the moment. My back is still not all it should be, so I'm hemmed into my flat quite efficiently. And everybody wishing me well and offering help is actually driving me to distraction.

One of the things I've been learning while I've been if not laid up then at least slowed down, is that back pain is one of those things that everybody either has a cure for, or can recommend someone who does. So much of it is contradictory that it's of next to now use, but people feel obliged to offer up their kernels of knowledge, and I have to accept all of them like a grateful beggar on the street. I might be drawing things in a fairly harsh light here, but I've had so many recommendations of good chiropractors, osteopaths, physiotherapists, doctors, acupuncturists and masseurs that if I took them all up not only would I not be able to move even as much as I can now, I'd be getting shuttled around like a tennis ball, shunted from end to end, as I ran to all the appointments.

It's not that I'm not ungrateful. I do understand that it was concern that drove my grandmother to offer to call my aunt if there was anything wrong with me (although why I wouldn't just solve all the problems by calling my mother, who is not only a damn site closer, but able to drive, I have yet to figure. At the very least, surely I'd just call the aunt directly, if needed?). But folks, really, there's a limit to how much of this I can take, and I've about reached it. Thank god I've been a little more mobile today, even if it was just a grandmotherly shuffle. There's a light shining at the end of the tunnel. And best of all, it's not offering me any bloody advice.

My Kitchen Rules - or at least my scones do

Today is cold and miserable, in spite of the extra hour gained thanks to the end of daylight saving. So what better day to do some baking, I figured. Being without the classic baker's kitchen that my mother possesses (pantry always stocked with rations in case of siege; she could survive for a month on tinned food alone, without cooking a thing), I decided that scones were the order of the day, but they were a little bland for my taste. I figured I'd hit up my trusty friend google for some inspiration on variations, other than the usual cheesy scone, and boy did I open a minefield.

Turns out that the simple scone recipe I've been using since child hood (self raising flour, butter and milk - it doesn't get any easier) is not to be found anywhere online. Instead, there was a website boasting that it had an egg-free recipe - since when were eggs involved? - another with baking powder, eggs and cream, not to mention countless other twists. And that was just for the basic scone itself. I'd heard of a mix using plain flour and lemonade before (always looked down upon by my otherwise easygoing mother and grand mother, but favoured by the cooking-hater Nana), but never had I considered that there could possibly be so many ways to bake a scone. The humble scone, typically served with jam and cream, delicious any way you look at it (although not usually described as light and fluffy, as one American website had it...light and fluffy is no suitable vehicle for jam and cream, methinks, or at least in the proportions that I enjoy it).

So here I am...looking down the barrel of not finding a suitable variation on a classic because I got bogged down in the mire of what exactly is involved in the basic recipe. Who dared to mess with a classic, I ask you? Not me. I've got my milk, I've got my butter, I've got my flour. In about 20 minutes, I will also have my scones. Somewhat longer than that, and I might even fill in the pitiful few readers out there with an update on exactly what has kept me offline for about a month. But let's not be too rash. After all, baking waits for no man. Or woman. Or blog.

Dateline

In the spirit of helpfulness, I've decided to take my, ahem, valuable experience in the world of internet dating and compile a list of handy hints for the beginner. So, here goes. And don't hold it against me if I've left any out. The list is neither endless nor accurate for everyone.

1. Never meet without a photo. Crucial. Also, find out height if possible, because photos can be misleading. I'm fairly tall, so the idea of turning up find a man who's 5'2, far from ideal. He might be the most lovely man on the face of the earth, but if he's eye level with my boobs, we're both going to be distracted - him for obvious reasons and me wanting to slap him, for the obvious reasons.

2. Always have an escape clause handy. Even if this is just a friend who can call with an "emergency". And double check that your friend understands the emergency smoke signal. You don't want to end up in a situation where you're trapped, and your emergency "Help, I''m about to pass out from sheer boredom, whilst bleeding from the ears because he hasn't stopped talking" message is misunderstood and you're left holding the phone a willing it to ring. If the wires are crossed, it won't.

3. Don't assume that because a guy is great with words in an email that he will be the best conversationalist. Chances are pretty good that he won't, in my experience. Think about it. When writing an email, you can edit, you can take your time, you can have someone else read over it. Hell, you can do what one non-English-speaking girl I've heard about did, and get someone else to WRITE it for you (the translator turning up for the date as well was the giveaway). But in person? There's nowhere to hide when he starts rambling about how great his ex was, or mutters incoherently. Or, worst crime of all, is just plain boring.

4. Arrange to meet somewhere public. Several reasons, here. The most obvious is the safety issue, of course. As much as it might have been nice to get picked up from your parents' house by your date when you were younger - and your parents wanted to check out the reprobate you were spending your time with - it's much safer to meet publicly for most people in the age of stalking. You don't want to let them know where you live until you've had a chance to vet them. But always make sure someone knows where you are. Sometimes, you can even combine this with point 2; a friend coming by to pose as your current boyfriend/girlfriend and dragging you away is a surefire way of making sure the hideous horror across the table from you in the cafe knows never to contact you again. The other advantage of meeting publicly, if your date is either a slow starter or, in case of failure at point 2, never-ending, at least in areas with lots of people you've got something else to do. Eavesdropping, people watching, all valid entertainments. And if your date doesn't notice that they don't have your whole attention? You know they weren't worth the effort anyway.

5. Always have an escape route planned. And I'm not talking about your phone-a-friend or a phantom getaway - although that's another possible option in case point 2 fails and you really can't stand another minute in his or her company. Know your way home, or have the money for a cab to get you there. The last thing you want at the end of a bad date is to be forced into sharing a cab. Not only does that let the other person know where you live (see point 3), but it also means you're trapped in their company for that bit longer. Sure, if it's a good date, sharing a cab is fine - perfect, in fact - but at least prepare for any eventualities.

So there you have it. My 5 rules for internet dating when it comes time to meet up. There are other points out there, I'm sure. Tips and tricks during the email phase, phrasing for the profile, suggestions for venues, for outfits, hell, any step of the process can be analysed. But this is what I've got to offer. The other stuff? Well, I'm sure you can figure it out. I just wish I hadn't needed experience to put together this list. Because for all the good dates - and there have been some - there's been some shockers too. Hard won information above, people. Use it wisely!