Oh dear, she decided to mention (tipsily, over red wine) existance of this said blog to Uni Boy last night. About the hilarious festival boyfriend anecdotes etc. No mention obviously of the neverending crush on him and its documentation herein, though he did ask for the link. Not in a million years....
It does beg a question though. Why do we find it so hard to admit feelings to other people? If she had manned up (wo-manned up?) years ago and told him how she felt, she wouldn't still be hanging on. And, potentially risking other chances like with the lovely guy she went on a date with last Friday. Who is obviously a much better prospect.
Is he unreliable? Nope. Immature? Nope. Leaves you unsure of where you stand like a wobbly fairground floor? Nope. Occasionally arrogant? Nope.
So, there we have it. A MUCH better prospect. She is planning a day trip to go and see him next week. Does someone have an eraser so she can get Uni Boy out of her head for the final time please? It would be ever-so-much appreciated.
Thursday, 8 September 2011
Thursday, 1 September 2011
Tomorrow, tomorrow...
Okay by the time anyone reads this it will be today. But that aside, yes! The London Loves has a date tomorrow. A DATE. Gosh, it's been a little while since one of those. She does rather wonder if she will remember what to do. Discussing this over work drinks tonight, it was decided it is scarier than a job interview... Well. Let's see how it goes...
Tuesday, 30 August 2011
Here's what you missed... kind of.
It's not that she doesn't want to write about the Irishman, but it just feels a bit wrong. She may get round to it at some point. To be honest, she's just figuring out how she feels about being single again, and is a bit grateful that what happened at Reading seemed to break some kind of spell. He was the nicest guy, but ultimately, she didn't love him. Oldest story in the book. But it's the truth. And he never said he loved her and - worst crime of all - wouldn't hold her hand. Perhaps it's a little bit of a sad situation, perhaps it's wasted time that's the most frustrating. Yep, frustrating is probably the word to sum up the whole relationship.
Anyhow - she's still in love with Uni Boy. But you guessed that, right..?? She's trying to let it go, don't worry. Umm yeah, STILL trying to let it go.
However, for the first time in forever, she has a date. On Friday. With the brother of her new best friend. Whom she met at her wedding, but oh-so-briefly that this feels like a blind date, if anything. He lives out of town and has asked to stay at hers ("on a sofa or a stairwell", in his words). Is that weird? She can't work it out. In any case, she'd better tidy her room...
Anyhow - she's still in love with Uni Boy. But you guessed that, right..?? She's trying to let it go, don't worry. Umm yeah, STILL trying to let it go.
However, for the first time in forever, she has a date. On Friday. With the brother of her new best friend. Whom she met at her wedding, but oh-so-briefly that this feels like a blind date, if anything. He lives out of town and has asked to stay at hers ("on a sofa or a stairwell", in his words). Is that weird? She can't work it out. In any case, she'd better tidy her room...
Part Two.
Do you remember the first time? The first time she met the festival boyfriend that is – the boy she met in a field with the most intense gaze in the whole, wide world. She never found the five-pound note on which he'd written Love in the Time of Cholera. But this year, this Reading Festival, she did find him. And reader? She'd married him. No, not the London Loves. Despite this unforgiveable, lengthy hiatus she is still happily unmarried. And after 15 months with the Irishman, now single again. No, it was the festival boyfriend's girlfriend who had married him.
It was really amazing to bump into him, though she kind of wished she hadn't been eating really grotesque festival food at the time. The kisses were kind of amazing too. The same stage, the same great bands, the same chat – it was seeming to be going swimmingly well. Only, why was he so apologetic and defensive? She joked about him having wives and children. Turned out it wasn't all that funny.
“I want to kiss you and punch you in the face at the same time, which is a really complex set of emotions. And would be physically quite difficult.”
Were her exact words after having her suspicions confirmed. What she then did, was say: “I can't do this.” Which was the right thing, the good thing, to do. Less good was avoiding him when she bumped into him the next day. But then, there was more festival fun to be had... Updates will come, promise. There is much ground to be caught up on
PS Hello Festival Boyfriend if you're reading this, having coaxed the name of the blog from my friend. Thanks for the fun. Radiohead truly will never sound the same again.
It was really amazing to bump into him, though she kind of wished she hadn't been eating really grotesque festival food at the time. The kisses were kind of amazing too. The same stage, the same great bands, the same chat – it was seeming to be going swimmingly well. Only, why was he so apologetic and defensive? She joked about him having wives and children. Turned out it wasn't all that funny.
“I want to kiss you and punch you in the face at the same time, which is a really complex set of emotions. And would be physically quite difficult.”
Were her exact words after having her suspicions confirmed. What she then did, was say: “I can't do this.” Which was the right thing, the good thing, to do. Less good was avoiding him when she bumped into him the next day. But then, there was more festival fun to be had... Updates will come, promise. There is much ground to be caught up on
PS Hello Festival Boyfriend if you're reading this, having coaxed the name of the blog from my friend. Thanks for the fun. Radiohead truly will never sound the same again.
Saturday, 3 April 2010
Luck of the Irish
Sometimes, just sometimes, comes along a date that restores your faith in the Gods of Dating (and they exist - oh, they exist). She wasn't so much nervous about this date itself, more nervous in case she didn't fancy him. But she did. Oh, she did.
From the lopsided grin when he met her at the train station, to the protective arm thing he did when she nearly walked in front of a bus (now THAT would have been a bad start...), to the just simple NICENESS of him and how funny he is and the accent. Did she mention the accent? Argh, and she promised not to gush!
After a rash of bad dates, it's very hard not to get too excited about a great one. But there's nothing wrong in a little excitement, no? He says funny things, like: "I think I'd like to go into space... but only if there'd be something to see, like. I think the novelty of just seeing earth would wear off, after a bit....". Okay, maybe you had to be there.
She had a bit of date embarrassment in suggesting the bottle of wine she bought wasn't all that cold, so he offered to take it back - only to find she'd accidentally bought red instead. Oops! But somehow, it didn't matter. Not one bit.
Anyway, early days. Early, early days....
From the lopsided grin when he met her at the train station, to the protective arm thing he did when she nearly walked in front of a bus (now THAT would have been a bad start...), to the just simple NICENESS of him and how funny he is and the accent. Did she mention the accent? Argh, and she promised not to gush!
After a rash of bad dates, it's very hard not to get too excited about a great one. But there's nothing wrong in a little excitement, no? He says funny things, like: "I think I'd like to go into space... but only if there'd be something to see, like. I think the novelty of just seeing earth would wear off, after a bit....". Okay, maybe you had to be there.
She had a bit of date embarrassment in suggesting the bottle of wine she bought wasn't all that cold, so he offered to take it back - only to find she'd accidentally bought red instead. Oops! But somehow, it didn't matter. Not one bit.
Anyway, early days. Early, early days....
Tuesday, 30 March 2010
Normal service now resumed....
She wanted to get some things off her chest. DONE! And now for a catch-up (another one!).
* There were two dates with the friend's friend from work. A no comment would probably be kindest. Though she did discover the utter wonderousness of wasabi peanuts, so that can't be all bad.
* She got the date with the Guardian Soulmates guy. You know Mr Schuester from Glee? Imagine that. Now imagine him as gay, awkward, making inappopriate comments and without the general beauty of Mr Schu's face. He had a phobia of tea and a cat called Mo-Fo. This is not a joke. You may, or may not, be surprised that she had to drink her way through it. Mojitos and red, red wine.
* Finally, FINALLY she figured that Future Husband probably isn't future husband if he has a girlfriend. Subtle clue, but she just about figured it out. He is coming to the birthday party to end all birthday parties in the coming weeks, and she has rather embarassingly sent a few drunken texts (albeit restrained ones. no kisses counts as restrained, right?) but it's probably all okay. Except she is, however, a tad concerned about the fact that on Friday night on a flashing dancefloor, she told FH's uni friend she intended to marry FH. Said friend (who came home with her flatmate, fact fans! wooop!) then sent text to FH. She is worried. Needlessly? We'll see.
* Now for the fun stuff. On said flashing dancefloor, when lovely flatmate was otherwise engaged, after a free shot of Sambucca she started talking to a boy in a red t-shirt. Or he started talking to her, the details are a tad hazy. We shall call him Irish (for that is his name) and we will be a little bit excited that they then had an ace chat on Saturday and that they are going for a wee drinkie on Wednesday night - a pre-weekend to make up for her covering the whole of England for work for the whole of Easter. Actually, and at last, a date she is really looking forward to. Nothing might happen. But you know, it's a possibility, an outside shot, that something just might. Did she mention his accent? Oh, the ACCENT....
LLx
* There were two dates with the friend's friend from work. A no comment would probably be kindest. Though she did discover the utter wonderousness of wasabi peanuts, so that can't be all bad.
* She got the date with the Guardian Soulmates guy. You know Mr Schuester from Glee? Imagine that. Now imagine him as gay, awkward, making inappopriate comments and without the general beauty of Mr Schu's face. He had a phobia of tea and a cat called Mo-Fo. This is not a joke. You may, or may not, be surprised that she had to drink her way through it. Mojitos and red, red wine.
* Finally, FINALLY she figured that Future Husband probably isn't future husband if he has a girlfriend. Subtle clue, but she just about figured it out. He is coming to the birthday party to end all birthday parties in the coming weeks, and she has rather embarassingly sent a few drunken texts (albeit restrained ones. no kisses counts as restrained, right?) but it's probably all okay. Except she is, however, a tad concerned about the fact that on Friday night on a flashing dancefloor, she told FH's uni friend she intended to marry FH. Said friend (who came home with her flatmate, fact fans! wooop!) then sent text to FH. She is worried. Needlessly? We'll see.
* Now for the fun stuff. On said flashing dancefloor, when lovely flatmate was otherwise engaged, after a free shot of Sambucca she started talking to a boy in a red t-shirt. Or he started talking to her, the details are a tad hazy. We shall call him Irish (for that is his name) and we will be a little bit excited that they then had an ace chat on Saturday and that they are going for a wee drinkie on Wednesday night - a pre-weekend to make up for her covering the whole of England for work for the whole of Easter. Actually, and at last, a date she is really looking forward to. Nothing might happen. But you know, it's a possibility, an outside shot, that something just might. Did she mention his accent? Oh, the ACCENT....
LLx
One
Singleness is a strange thing. Its boundaries morph and change, a formless shapeshifting being that can make you feel like you're dancing on a beach one minute and trying to keep afloat in the sea the next. It is terrifying at times, and wonderful for exactly the same reason - because you are, absolutely and completely, forced with figuring out the youness of you. No-one to bolster you or throw out a lifebelt. It takes a little while to remember you do not need it and actually revel in the freedom, the bliss of singleness. There are stages, of course... the utter joy and release, the messiness of the rebound, the fun, the dates, the not-wanting-someone, the not-not-wanting-someone, the wanting someone, the not-actually-caring-eitherway and then this. A kind of contentment. And the realisation that perhaps the person best equipped to save yourself is you - you can swim.
Sunday, 7 February 2010
Catch up!
Here is the news (shuffles papers authoratively, composes face Fiona Bruce style. But with less pointy ears)...
BONG! She is still single - but then you guessed that, right? But seriously, only a few more months and she could do a Hephzibah Anderson.
BONG! The Christmas party was a little dull but then she couldn't drink as she was being interviewed on national radio the next morning, live!
BONG! She ended the kissing drought at new year by kissing firstly another friend's sure thing by accident (oops) and then a 7ft tall Kiwi Edinburgh rugby player.
BONG! The inappropriate Uni Boy crush is well and truly over and she feels a little mortified about the whole thing.
BONG! She is being pursued by a farmer type with whom she had a really fun evening out when it was a friend's birthday, but he lives about three hours away. And has a small child. Which is kind of a new thing for her....
BONG! She has been set up by her lovely friend A with a work colleague... we'll call him Charlie. They went out on Friday and had fillet steak, wine, and talk about two-letter Scrabble words. It was fun. They're meeting again this week - more developments on this story to follow.
BONG! She grudgingly went back on Soulmates after lovely friend L met a guy on there she has now started dating. An enterprising type got his email address to her without her subscribing and, after an initial confusion making his email think she was spam, they are now conversing.
BONG! Is it so wrong to go on multiple dates? They do it on SATC all the time!
BONG! Digressing. Anyway. EVERYONE seems to want to set her up with someone at the moment. Is this what happens after you've been single 18 months? Or is it that "nearly 30" tattoo on her head?
AND FINALLY....
She has met her future husband. Oh, did I not mention that at the beginning? How remiss of her. Technically they met 10 years ago, but don't properly know each other. Anyhow. They met again, through a bizarre series of coincidences, last weekend. And could not stop talking to each other. And she has not felt like this in what seems like aeons. So, even if nothing were to happen she admits begrudgingly, she'd always have the memory of that fluttery, ooh it's-97-and-I've-just-done-poppers-for-the-first-and-last-time feeling in her head that FH brought about. What, I hear you ask, is the problem? A girlfriend. He has a girlfriend. But of course.
Hope you're all feeling suitably informed! Those are, of course, just the headlines. Detailed briefing later. She promises not to leave it another three months!
BONG! She is still single - but then you guessed that, right? But seriously, only a few more months and she could do a Hephzibah Anderson.
BONG! The Christmas party was a little dull but then she couldn't drink as she was being interviewed on national radio the next morning, live!
BONG! She ended the kissing drought at new year by kissing firstly another friend's sure thing by accident (oops) and then a 7ft tall Kiwi Edinburgh rugby player.
BONG! The inappropriate Uni Boy crush is well and truly over and she feels a little mortified about the whole thing.
BONG! She is being pursued by a farmer type with whom she had a really fun evening out when it was a friend's birthday, but he lives about three hours away. And has a small child. Which is kind of a new thing for her....
BONG! She has been set up by her lovely friend A with a work colleague... we'll call him Charlie. They went out on Friday and had fillet steak, wine, and talk about two-letter Scrabble words. It was fun. They're meeting again this week - more developments on this story to follow.
BONG! She grudgingly went back on Soulmates after lovely friend L met a guy on there she has now started dating. An enterprising type got his email address to her without her subscribing and, after an initial confusion making his email think she was spam, they are now conversing.
BONG! Is it so wrong to go on multiple dates? They do it on SATC all the time!
BONG! Digressing. Anyway. EVERYONE seems to want to set her up with someone at the moment. Is this what happens after you've been single 18 months? Or is it that "nearly 30" tattoo on her head?
AND FINALLY....
She has met her future husband. Oh, did I not mention that at the beginning? How remiss of her. Technically they met 10 years ago, but don't properly know each other. Anyhow. They met again, through a bizarre series of coincidences, last weekend. And could not stop talking to each other. And she has not felt like this in what seems like aeons. So, even if nothing were to happen she admits begrudgingly, she'd always have the memory of that fluttery, ooh it's-97-and-I've-just-done-poppers-for-the-first-and-last-time feeling in her head that FH brought about. What, I hear you ask, is the problem? A girlfriend. He has a girlfriend. But of course.
Hope you're all feeling suitably informed! Those are, of course, just the headlines. Detailed briefing later. She promises not to leave it another three months!
Like a phoenix from the flames....
Gosh, has it been so long? She is blushing at the complete lack of blogging in her life of late. There was a bit of a lull, granted, but she kind of got sidetracked by life in various guises. But now she has many tales to tell, hurrah! And is hoping for many more to be created in the coming months (in a film, this would be the cue for an OTT wink). Double hurrah!
Let the wild rumpus begin...
LLx
Let the wild rumpus begin...
LLx
Sunday, 22 November 2009
Red, red wine...
So, Sartre said that hell is other people. Actually, I think it was "L'enfer, c'est les autres" - but it's a passable translation.
She would like to amend this, however. Turns out hell is other people... coming outside at the moment when The London Loves is JUST about to be kissed by Uni Boy after a night full-t0-bursting of flirting. A little bit of luck would be appreciated!
It was a brilliant night, fuelled with cheap red wine (which, it has to be said, she didn't appreciate quite so much the next morning. Or afternoon, for that matter). Lots of fun with lots of old uni friends. Okay, it was meant to be a networking event - they just chose to network with each other, that's all!
What was slightly curious was that, after she walked in late and said hello to a friend she'd not seen for a while, said friend (who was a little more than friends with her at uni shall we say...) immediately turned around to fetch Uni Boy. And announce The London Love's arrival. Interesting. He looked massively pleased to see her (for those of you with dirty minds - shame on you) and they proceeded to chat for most of the evening.
"Chat" in this instance meaning "flirt quite outrageously". The talk wasn't just flirty, it turned downright dirty, the blame for which she is laying fairly and squarely at his door. But it WAS kind of fun.
They all left the bar, feeling slightly worse for wear, and headed (okay, swayed) to another pub. And it was here, dear readers, when they were illictly smoking outside, that there was very definitely a moment. And not, if you've been watching Miranda on BBC2, a made-up moment. Nope, this was a bona-fide, realer-than-real, okay-she-can't-remember-completely-she-was-that-drunk-but-nonetheless MOMENT (possibly with gropage. DAMN that red wine).
And then.... friend #2 walked out. Let's hope Uni Boy hadn't had to send him a "save me" text! Shit. He hadn't had to send him a "save me" text, had he??? We'll assume not, as Uni Boy's still talking to her. But as far as the night went, that was indeed that.
Are things really meant to be this frustrating??? All part of the rich tapestry of life and all that. Sigh. It's been pointed out to her that dating is also about the dry spells, but really, is it meant to last quite this long? She even read somewhere how it's meant to be about "spiritual enlightenment" and "finding yourself" when you're busy being single. Sod that.
In other news (which she needs to distract her from Uni Boy) - the Famous Five boy from work is newly single apparently. Woo hoo! Bring on the work christmas party, and quite possibly the strapless black dress with s+m overtones she saw in the shops this weekend...
She would like to amend this, however. Turns out hell is other people... coming outside at the moment when The London Loves is JUST about to be kissed by Uni Boy after a night full-t0-bursting of flirting. A little bit of luck would be appreciated!
It was a brilliant night, fuelled with cheap red wine (which, it has to be said, she didn't appreciate quite so much the next morning. Or afternoon, for that matter). Lots of fun with lots of old uni friends. Okay, it was meant to be a networking event - they just chose to network with each other, that's all!
What was slightly curious was that, after she walked in late and said hello to a friend she'd not seen for a while, said friend (who was a little more than friends with her at uni shall we say...) immediately turned around to fetch Uni Boy. And announce The London Love's arrival. Interesting. He looked massively pleased to see her (for those of you with dirty minds - shame on you) and they proceeded to chat for most of the evening.
"Chat" in this instance meaning "flirt quite outrageously". The talk wasn't just flirty, it turned downright dirty, the blame for which she is laying fairly and squarely at his door. But it WAS kind of fun.
They all left the bar, feeling slightly worse for wear, and headed (okay, swayed) to another pub. And it was here, dear readers, when they were illictly smoking outside, that there was very definitely a moment. And not, if you've been watching Miranda on BBC2, a made-up moment. Nope, this was a bona-fide, realer-than-real, okay-she-can't-remember-completely-she-was-that-drunk-but-nonetheless MOMENT (possibly with gropage. DAMN that red wine).
And then.... friend #2 walked out. Let's hope Uni Boy hadn't had to send him a "save me" text! Shit. He hadn't had to send him a "save me" text, had he??? We'll assume not, as Uni Boy's still talking to her. But as far as the night went, that was indeed that.
Are things really meant to be this frustrating??? All part of the rich tapestry of life and all that. Sigh. It's been pointed out to her that dating is also about the dry spells, but really, is it meant to last quite this long? She even read somewhere how it's meant to be about "spiritual enlightenment" and "finding yourself" when you're busy being single. Sod that.
In other news (which she needs to distract her from Uni Boy) - the Famous Five boy from work is newly single apparently. Woo hoo! Bring on the work christmas party, and quite possibly the strapless black dress with s+m overtones she saw in the shops this weekend...
Monday, 16 November 2009
Rules
These are the rules. She will be amazing tomorrow. Funny, friendly, freckly, down to earth, a little bit sexy but not scarily so. We’re talking lip gloss and masses of mascara, rather than buckets of eyeliner here and ample amounts of boobage. She will have a drink in her hand at most times but she will not, note NOT, be drunk. Not until the post-drinks-drinks, that is. She will have lots of great things to talk about, and will make it sound like she has done a lot more fiction writing than she has. If there are any exceptionally good-looking men there she will be chatty but slightly aloof and mysterious. Her legs will look fantastic. She will stand up most of the time to maximise that. She will network relentlessly and get lots of people's cards which she probably won't ever end up using. She will exude confidence, intelligence and wit, with a little bit of minx-ness thrown in for good measure. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES WILL SHE TRY TO FLIRT WITH UNI BOY.
Friday, 6 November 2009
Non-date #2
Or.. the continuing saga of The London Loves and Uni Boy
Hmmm. Perhaps "saga" makes it out to be something more than it is. But here's the thing. She went out to see the documentary with him last night and had an amazing amazing time! Everything is there. He's such a great guy (yeah okay... pass the sick bucket etc), they're so chatty together, and it was a lot of fun. Why then, can't she get her head around the fact that, for now at least, they're just friends?
She realises that talking about this does very much make her appear like someone on a trailer for He's Just Not That Into You Too (which has to be the name of the sequel, right? Slightly grammatically wrong but I'm sure that won't bother them too much). It is an unfortunate by-product of this whole situation. With that little warning, let her dissect the non-date. Okay, last time when she said there was no chemistry, no fireworks? That may have been a teeny lie. Or he was having a bad day, whatever. Because this time? Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee-BANG (that's her best approximation of a Catherine Wheel, btw. Do bear with her, it's been a busy week).
Then somehow, within 10 minutes they were talking about porn. Writing it, that is, for money, rather than just talking filth. Um. But still. What's that all about? Luckily it was time to go in for the film then so that particular line of conversation wasn't followed! She had to try a little bit to concentrate on the film, but it was good. They had sensibly gone for "middle" when asked where they wanted to sit, though she did notice a cheeky look and eyebrow raise from Uni Boy when the nice cinema lady said "back row".
And then there was dinner, in which her internal temperature managed to rocket up to about 50C creating a rather special "glowy" look to her face. Beacon-like, it may more accurately have been described. Girls? Sometimes there is such a thing as TOO SPICY and TOO MANY LAYERS OF CLOTHES. A valuable winter lesson for us all.
Ooh she forgot to say, thanks to the Twitter friends for advice on clothes to wear (twitter.com/thelondonloves for anyone who's not on there!). She went for - skinny jeans, grey fake-Uggs (fuggs?), slightly low cut top, scarf and coat. Oh and a floaty cardigan. Hence the overheating. Was not just proximity to the boy, honest gov. Apart from the temperature issues, it was mostly a good look. She may have shamefully slightly leaned over the table a few times too. That's allowed, right?
And what did they talk about? Everything. Anything. Lots! They talked about buggering off to India for Christmas. Together. About writing, about life, about love. He's only just ended a relationship, and it lasted for quite a few months - but hey, at least this could explain why she hadn't seen him much! He seems every-so-slightly bitter as a result, although that could well be sex deprivation symptoms, if she's reading him as well as she thinks! Oh dear.
Which could end up leaving her in a bit of a pickle. Being friends is one thing - they get on so well and they've known each other for years. Being "special friends" is not somewhere she wants to go, thanks very much. He's adamant he wants to get "very drunk" at a uni meet up thing, appropriately enough, the week after next. And equally adamant that he wants her to be there, and to go out somewhere afterwards.
And that is where we leave them, him giving her a kiss (on the cheek!) on the Tube as she saunters off in search of a little air conditioning.
It was a great night. However, she's having difficulty reading this. What about you?
Hmmm. Perhaps "saga" makes it out to be something more than it is. But here's the thing. She went out to see the documentary with him last night and had an amazing amazing time! Everything is there. He's such a great guy (yeah okay... pass the sick bucket etc), they're so chatty together, and it was a lot of fun. Why then, can't she get her head around the fact that, for now at least, they're just friends?
She realises that talking about this does very much make her appear like someone on a trailer for He's Just Not That Into You Too (which has to be the name of the sequel, right? Slightly grammatically wrong but I'm sure that won't bother them too much). It is an unfortunate by-product of this whole situation. With that little warning, let her dissect the non-date. Okay, last time when she said there was no chemistry, no fireworks? That may have been a teeny lie. Or he was having a bad day, whatever. Because this time? Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee-BANG (that's her best approximation of a Catherine Wheel, btw. Do bear with her, it's been a busy week).
Then somehow, within 10 minutes they were talking about porn. Writing it, that is, for money, rather than just talking filth. Um. But still. What's that all about? Luckily it was time to go in for the film then so that particular line of conversation wasn't followed! She had to try a little bit to concentrate on the film, but it was good. They had sensibly gone for "middle" when asked where they wanted to sit, though she did notice a cheeky look and eyebrow raise from Uni Boy when the nice cinema lady said "back row".
And then there was dinner, in which her internal temperature managed to rocket up to about 50C creating a rather special "glowy" look to her face. Beacon-like, it may more accurately have been described. Girls? Sometimes there is such a thing as TOO SPICY and TOO MANY LAYERS OF CLOTHES. A valuable winter lesson for us all.
Ooh she forgot to say, thanks to the Twitter friends for advice on clothes to wear (twitter.com/thelondonloves for anyone who's not on there!). She went for - skinny jeans, grey fake-Uggs (fuggs?), slightly low cut top, scarf and coat. Oh and a floaty cardigan. Hence the overheating. Was not just proximity to the boy, honest gov. Apart from the temperature issues, it was mostly a good look. She may have shamefully slightly leaned over the table a few times too. That's allowed, right?
And what did they talk about? Everything. Anything. Lots! They talked about buggering off to India for Christmas. Together. About writing, about life, about love. He's only just ended a relationship, and it lasted for quite a few months - but hey, at least this could explain why she hadn't seen him much! He seems every-so-slightly bitter as a result, although that could well be sex deprivation symptoms, if she's reading him as well as she thinks! Oh dear.
Which could end up leaving her in a bit of a pickle. Being friends is one thing - they get on so well and they've known each other for years. Being "special friends" is not somewhere she wants to go, thanks very much. He's adamant he wants to get "very drunk" at a uni meet up thing, appropriately enough, the week after next. And equally adamant that he wants her to be there, and to go out somewhere afterwards.
And that is where we leave them, him giving her a kiss (on the cheek!) on the Tube as she saunters off in search of a little air conditioning.
It was a great night. However, she's having difficulty reading this. What about you?
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
PS
She maybe should have added this to the above post. A little fact that maybe, just maybe, changes everything. It's the fact that, unbeknownst to her, Uni Boy has had a girlfriend all along. Not, she doesn't think, at the time they got together last year, but kind of more recently. Only now, he doesn't. And he's asking if they're going to watch that film, because he needs "cheering up". Think am going to need a little help on this one. Advice, lovely people please!
The Consolations of Autumn
She's shamelessly stolen that title from a fabulous Radio 4 programme she listened to last night by the way - iplayer it if you still can! It was on Something Understood the other night, is all about the passage of seasons and time, watching leaves fall and making way for new shoots.
That's something that's been on her mind of late. She's kind of got a bit sick of the whole Bridget Jones thing (complete with lack of journalistic skills that saw her confusing the 'on' and 'off' buttons on the video camera. And she once spat on the Prime Minister by mistake. Bridget would be SO proud).
She took herself off the My Single Friend site, after deciding that rejection on multiple counts was really a bit more than her slightly bruised ego could cope with. She read an article in the Observer which basically said hey! It's okay to have a bit of man-free time, it's just a drought! JUST a drought, she thought? Well, phew, thank goodness for that. Could have been worse, they could have called it a famine I suppose.
Weddings are, of course, times of loveliness and happiness for people whose drought days are long gone. The wedding of lovely friend K was beautiful, and she cried. K looked absolutely stunning and had this wonderful smiley glow about her the whole day which was amazing to behold. Okay, she wasn't uberly impressed with the Bible reading which basically read as follows: "If you're single, you get cold in bed. If you're a couple, you're all toasty and warm. If you're a couple, someone will pick you up when you fall over. If you're single, everyone will point and laugh as you scrabble to pick yourself up from the pavement. Ha ha." She much preferred the Edward Monkton reading about dinosaurs, which was a really nice touch.
And as she heard the groom's speech, she was overwhelmed with happiness for her friend, and struck with what massive luck it is that two people destined to be with each other, find each other. I never know how that happens. But K and C have definitely struck lucky.
She was too busy dancing to find any eligible men - but as she pointed out over her seventh glass of red wine: "They're all gay, married or too young" which was actually the case at the Birmingham Botanical Gardens that night. But hey, she still had dancing partners a-plenty, and she got to see a bride mime the actions to a certain verse of Whenever, Wherever by Shakira. Which was a special moment.
Of the best man? Well, he was a lovely guy but the bride was too busy to do any matchmaking in the end. But actually that was kind of cool. And the DJ friend of her flatmate? He was over on Sunday night for a dinner party that turned into an all afternoon and evening drinking session... ouch! Again, he's really nice but.... she doesn't know what follows the 'but' actually. Maybe the but is that she doesn't feel, after all, that she has to be with someone, anyone. There's no hurry. Seasons have a strange way of changing things, and breathing fresh air into your life. Bring on the Autumn months, and kicking up the leaves.
That's something that's been on her mind of late. She's kind of got a bit sick of the whole Bridget Jones thing (complete with lack of journalistic skills that saw her confusing the 'on' and 'off' buttons on the video camera. And she once spat on the Prime Minister by mistake. Bridget would be SO proud).
She took herself off the My Single Friend site, after deciding that rejection on multiple counts was really a bit more than her slightly bruised ego could cope with. She read an article in the Observer which basically said hey! It's okay to have a bit of man-free time, it's just a drought! JUST a drought, she thought? Well, phew, thank goodness for that. Could have been worse, they could have called it a famine I suppose.
Weddings are, of course, times of loveliness and happiness for people whose drought days are long gone. The wedding of lovely friend K was beautiful, and she cried. K looked absolutely stunning and had this wonderful smiley glow about her the whole day which was amazing to behold. Okay, she wasn't uberly impressed with the Bible reading which basically read as follows: "If you're single, you get cold in bed. If you're a couple, you're all toasty and warm. If you're a couple, someone will pick you up when you fall over. If you're single, everyone will point and laugh as you scrabble to pick yourself up from the pavement. Ha ha." She much preferred the Edward Monkton reading about dinosaurs, which was a really nice touch.
And as she heard the groom's speech, she was overwhelmed with happiness for her friend, and struck with what massive luck it is that two people destined to be with each other, find each other. I never know how that happens. But K and C have definitely struck lucky.
She was too busy dancing to find any eligible men - but as she pointed out over her seventh glass of red wine: "They're all gay, married or too young" which was actually the case at the Birmingham Botanical Gardens that night. But hey, she still had dancing partners a-plenty, and she got to see a bride mime the actions to a certain verse of Whenever, Wherever by Shakira. Which was a special moment.
Of the best man? Well, he was a lovely guy but the bride was too busy to do any matchmaking in the end. But actually that was kind of cool. And the DJ friend of her flatmate? He was over on Sunday night for a dinner party that turned into an all afternoon and evening drinking session... ouch! Again, he's really nice but.... she doesn't know what follows the 'but' actually. Maybe the but is that she doesn't feel, after all, that she has to be with someone, anyone. There's no hurry. Seasons have a strange way of changing things, and breathing fresh air into your life. Bring on the Autumn months, and kicking up the leaves.
Monday, 5 October 2009
Flames - old and new
Today, she missed her ex. Why? Because she remembered how they used to write notes to each other in shorthand (yeah yeah, it's geeky. But it was also kind of cool).
Then, she got her mysinglefriend profile approved and found on the site a man who, without a word of a lie, is the most beautiful man she has ever seen in her life. Literally. If this was a Tom and Jerry cartoon, her pupils would have turned heart-shaped and her heart would be thudding out of her chest.
Even if he doesn't reply, or worse, turns out to be a troll in real life, it was a nice feeling while it lasted!
She's still a little unsure about going down the whole internet dating thing and would kind of like to meet someone a little more organically. Maybe, perhaps, the DJ friend of her wondrous new housemate, who she seems intent on setting her up with... Options. It's all about options.
Then, she got her mysinglefriend profile approved and found on the site a man who, without a word of a lie, is the most beautiful man she has ever seen in her life. Literally. If this was a Tom and Jerry cartoon, her pupils would have turned heart-shaped and her heart would be thudding out of her chest.
Even if he doesn't reply, or worse, turns out to be a troll in real life, it was a nice feeling while it lasted!
She's still a little unsure about going down the whole internet dating thing and would kind of like to meet someone a little more organically. Maybe, perhaps, the DJ friend of her wondrous new housemate, who she seems intent on setting her up with... Options. It's all about options.
Sunday, 4 October 2009
A moan
Or rather, several.
1) It seems all the men at E's bday party in Putney last night, lovely as they all were, are gay.
2) If they're not gay, they're taken. Ms H was presumably meaning to be encouraging when she said this week after making a yummy veggie risotto for them both: "But it's okay - we get them on the second round". So, full of heartbreak and loathing, and encumbered with so much emotional baggage they've got back-ache? Marvellous.
3) Many men are, essentially, crap. Case in point. At lovely Ms E's hen do last weekend, which was much fun incidentally, one felt the need to point out another member of the party and tell her: "That girl is the most beautiful thing I have seen in my life. She blows my mind,". Well, thank you. Thank you very much.
4) Look, if you're a guy sitting on the tube, and you're a bit bulky, DO NOT barge your elbows all over the place, especially not into the face of the girl sat next to you. Being sandwiched between two sweaty men is not the dream situation.
5) When a girl has made herself look lovely, is wearing tartan tights, smoky eyes and generally feeling good about herself, do not under any circumstances (even if you are a pissed-up 17-year-old) shout out: "You're f***ing ugly, love". Okay, it was either "ugly" or "lovely", she can't tell as she had her iPod playing Ben Folds rather loudly. But in her current state of mind, she's adamant it was the former.
6) Her horoscopes are telling her to forget about dire lack of action and instead focus on work, new studies or creative projects. Brilliant. So she'll end up not only as a spinster, but one who is a dab hand at crocheting, and possibly, astrophysics.
1) It seems all the men at E's bday party in Putney last night, lovely as they all were, are gay.
2) If they're not gay, they're taken. Ms H was presumably meaning to be encouraging when she said this week after making a yummy veggie risotto for them both: "But it's okay - we get them on the second round". So, full of heartbreak and loathing, and encumbered with so much emotional baggage they've got back-ache? Marvellous.
3) Many men are, essentially, crap. Case in point. At lovely Ms E's hen do last weekend, which was much fun incidentally, one felt the need to point out another member of the party and tell her: "That girl is the most beautiful thing I have seen in my life. She blows my mind,". Well, thank you. Thank you very much.
4) Look, if you're a guy sitting on the tube, and you're a bit bulky, DO NOT barge your elbows all over the place, especially not into the face of the girl sat next to you. Being sandwiched between two sweaty men is not the dream situation.
5) When a girl has made herself look lovely, is wearing tartan tights, smoky eyes and generally feeling good about herself, do not under any circumstances (even if you are a pissed-up 17-year-old) shout out: "You're f***ing ugly, love". Okay, it was either "ugly" or "lovely", she can't tell as she had her iPod playing Ben Folds rather loudly. But in her current state of mind, she's adamant it was the former.
6) Her horoscopes are telling her to forget about dire lack of action and instead focus on work, new studies or creative projects. Brilliant. So she'll end up not only as a spinster, but one who is a dab hand at crocheting, and possibly, astrophysics.
Friday, 2 October 2009
Of weddings
Oof, well the hangover mist has just about settled from last weekend's antics to condemn them to print. Please bear in mind, this happened after she'd had no sleep on the flight back from DC (and look, you CAN be sympathetic and ignore the fact she was in a bed on a plane. A fact she is still marvelling over). Then she had to go straight back to work that day, then to the London office the following two days, then to the wedding reception of a friend.
What perhaps set the tone was that when she and gorgeous work colleague (and her boyfriend) arrived in the Surrey park in a taxi, they literally stumbled out into the middle of a fight. A big old fist-fight, evidently involving the wedding guests, with F and C bombs being dropped all over the place. Deary me.
They then met up with former work colleague boy - who had decided to drink his way through the day, having been invited to the main event without knowing a single other person. He could barely speak, but managed to furnish them with a bottle of red wine and some cheese, which was about all that was left from the buffet.
She decided, spurred on by the wine, to tell gorgeous colleague and drunk boy about her little work crush. On the smiley boy with the deliciously dark red hair. She was a tad reluctant to do so, and said: "Well, I don't want to give his name. You're going to tell me he has some fantastic long term girlfriend/wife etc etc. And I don't want to know!". This was met with a sympathetic smile, and a: "It's not Bill is it?" (look, he's not called Bill. But he LOOKS like a Bill. And yes, dear readers, it was Bill).
She felt crestfallen and must have looked it, as GC immediately rushed in with an: "Oh my God, are you okay? Here, have some Stilton. And wine. Drink the wine."
It wasn't so much that it was Bill himself, just the fact that here was another crush that was an absolute dead end. There seem to be a fair few too many of those of late.
When he was otherwise engaged (errr... trying to deactivate yet another fight), GC turned to her and whispered: "What about drunk boy? Not tonight, obviously. But still..."
This planted the seed in her head, and she decided a dance wouldn't hurt. She'd always had a feeling they may end up having a little kiss at some point, after all.
She could ignore the fact he was grinding his hips, back to back, against the groom's mother's best friend, who may well have been in the Golden Girls. She couldn't ignore Robbie Williams' Angels when it came on however, which she simply cannot be in the same room as.
Going outside, she happened upon a table of people laughing and smoking, and recognising one of them from work, joined them, hoping for a drunken cigarette. This is the point at which she took two (large) drags of the one offered to her, before realising it wasn't a normal cigarette, by any stretch of the imagination. Oooooops.
Things started going ever-so-slightly blurry at this point. But she had a real gem of a moment, so much so that if any scriptwriters of Bridget Jones 3 are reading this, they're welcome to have it for free (or perhaps, in payment, she could have a little grope of Colin Firth? Thanks).
Then drunk boy and her were dancing. So far so good. She asked if he needed to share a taxi back with her and GC at which point he grinned, and slurred: "Noooo. I'm gunna home with YOU" - and stumbled, plunging to the floor like a sack of potatoes encased in concrete, falling perfectly under a table, leaving only his feet sticking out.
Seeing he wasn't actually dead, she decided leaving the scene with her wine-splashed dress was the only answer. By the time she had regained her composure and returned, it was last song time. And drunk boy was living up to his name.
Cut to outside, and taxis are being lined up. She is having to grab onto him because he (please bear in mind he's built like a rugby player) is stumbling to the floor. Cue argument with taxi driver who insists drunk boy should be going to hospital instead. She uses her best persuasion skills to get him inside, and immediately goes into her best Florence Nightingale mode.
Only thing is, Florence probably didn't rub the back of her patients' heads. Allow said head to rest on her shoulder. Allow the lips on the said head to then kiss her. Literally, from half-dead to being in mid-snog in the space of three minutes.
God knows what GC and boyfriend thought (their reactions, she seems to remember, consisted of jaws hitting floors). They managed, eventually, to get drunk boy home, and he was saved from having to climb through a window by a housemate.
In a way, she wishes this weren't the end of the story. In her (drunken) wisdom, she decided sending him a text that night to inform him of their little cab romance was wise, and to take him up on the dinner he promised her in the middle of the last dance.
But, do you know what? Nothing. Okay, he sent a text apology, saying he feared he'd made a fool of himself at the wedding. But he later told GC he had no recollection of the night at all.
As has been pointed out to her, this was hardly likely to be the beginning of a beautiful romance, was it? It would have been nice to have been asked for that dinner though.
In the spirit of new starts and not giving up, she's now signed up to mysinglefriend.com, thanks to Ms E's helpful nudging and wondrous description of her (she wasn't bribed, honest). She'd kind of given up on the whole web dating thing, but hey! Let's see how it goes. It can't get any worse... can it???
What perhaps set the tone was that when she and gorgeous work colleague (and her boyfriend) arrived in the Surrey park in a taxi, they literally stumbled out into the middle of a fight. A big old fist-fight, evidently involving the wedding guests, with F and C bombs being dropped all over the place. Deary me.
They then met up with former work colleague boy - who had decided to drink his way through the day, having been invited to the main event without knowing a single other person. He could barely speak, but managed to furnish them with a bottle of red wine and some cheese, which was about all that was left from the buffet.
She decided, spurred on by the wine, to tell gorgeous colleague and drunk boy about her little work crush. On the smiley boy with the deliciously dark red hair. She was a tad reluctant to do so, and said: "Well, I don't want to give his name. You're going to tell me he has some fantastic long term girlfriend/wife etc etc. And I don't want to know!". This was met with a sympathetic smile, and a: "It's not Bill is it?" (look, he's not called Bill. But he LOOKS like a Bill. And yes, dear readers, it was Bill).
She felt crestfallen and must have looked it, as GC immediately rushed in with an: "Oh my God, are you okay? Here, have some Stilton. And wine. Drink the wine."
It wasn't so much that it was Bill himself, just the fact that here was another crush that was an absolute dead end. There seem to be a fair few too many of those of late.
When he was otherwise engaged (errr... trying to deactivate yet another fight), GC turned to her and whispered: "What about drunk boy? Not tonight, obviously. But still..."
This planted the seed in her head, and she decided a dance wouldn't hurt. She'd always had a feeling they may end up having a little kiss at some point, after all.
She could ignore the fact he was grinding his hips, back to back, against the groom's mother's best friend, who may well have been in the Golden Girls. She couldn't ignore Robbie Williams' Angels when it came on however, which she simply cannot be in the same room as.
Going outside, she happened upon a table of people laughing and smoking, and recognising one of them from work, joined them, hoping for a drunken cigarette. This is the point at which she took two (large) drags of the one offered to her, before realising it wasn't a normal cigarette, by any stretch of the imagination. Oooooops.
Things started going ever-so-slightly blurry at this point. But she had a real gem of a moment, so much so that if any scriptwriters of Bridget Jones 3 are reading this, they're welcome to have it for free (or perhaps, in payment, she could have a little grope of Colin Firth? Thanks).
Then drunk boy and her were dancing. So far so good. She asked if he needed to share a taxi back with her and GC at which point he grinned, and slurred: "Noooo. I'm gunna home with YOU" - and stumbled, plunging to the floor like a sack of potatoes encased in concrete, falling perfectly under a table, leaving only his feet sticking out.
Seeing he wasn't actually dead, she decided leaving the scene with her wine-splashed dress was the only answer. By the time she had regained her composure and returned, it was last song time. And drunk boy was living up to his name.
Cut to outside, and taxis are being lined up. She is having to grab onto him because he (please bear in mind he's built like a rugby player) is stumbling to the floor. Cue argument with taxi driver who insists drunk boy should be going to hospital instead. She uses her best persuasion skills to get him inside, and immediately goes into her best Florence Nightingale mode.
Only thing is, Florence probably didn't rub the back of her patients' heads. Allow said head to rest on her shoulder. Allow the lips on the said head to then kiss her. Literally, from half-dead to being in mid-snog in the space of three minutes.
God knows what GC and boyfriend thought (their reactions, she seems to remember, consisted of jaws hitting floors). They managed, eventually, to get drunk boy home, and he was saved from having to climb through a window by a housemate.
In a way, she wishes this weren't the end of the story. In her (drunken) wisdom, she decided sending him a text that night to inform him of their little cab romance was wise, and to take him up on the dinner he promised her in the middle of the last dance.
But, do you know what? Nothing. Okay, he sent a text apology, saying he feared he'd made a fool of himself at the wedding. But he later told GC he had no recollection of the night at all.
As has been pointed out to her, this was hardly likely to be the beginning of a beautiful romance, was it? It would have been nice to have been asked for that dinner though.
In the spirit of new starts and not giving up, she's now signed up to mysinglefriend.com, thanks to Ms E's helpful nudging and wondrous description of her (she wasn't bribed, honest). She'd kind of given up on the whole web dating thing, but hey! Let's see how it goes. It can't get any worse... can it???
Wednesday, 30 September 2009
Back from the USA!
But she has LITERALLY not stopped since. Well, okay, maybe done a teeny bit of sleeping in between, but that's it.
Washington was absolutely gorgeous - all classical architecture, green spaces and beautiful monuments. Oh and flying First Class and staying in a $1,000-dollar a night hotel suite? Yep, those were pretty good too! Just a shame that the gorgeous, vast bed was just hers, and that the rooftop bar Champagne was shared with workmates. Lovely as they were, she hastens to add. But when you're in such a fabulous place, so obviously designed for couples, it really accentuates the singleness.
The only pick-ups she had were truly pitiful. They were:
1) The smiley Japanese lady who waved at her from a passing taxi
2) The afro-haired student in the sweaty club who seemed to think pointing passed as a chat-up line
3) The tour guide who looked like Moby who the others were determined to set her up with. They danced to A-ha and NWA and he looked a little awkward. Lovely, but awkward.
Ummm. That's it. Shameful, isn't it? But let's forget about dating (believe me, she is trying!).
The main thing is, she loved DC. She swooned over the Smithsonian, had the best sushi in her life, cycled round the Capitol, found her favourite bar in the world (The Gibson, U Street), lusted after the beautiful things in the shops, and loved her own company and her newfound work friends'.
And after all that? She did come home with a man, believe it or not.
He looks great in pants, comes with his own (magnetic) wardrobe, is living on her fridge (currently in superhero garb with a garland of flowers round his neck)... and goes by the name Obama.
Washington was absolutely gorgeous - all classical architecture, green spaces and beautiful monuments. Oh and flying First Class and staying in a $1,000-dollar a night hotel suite? Yep, those were pretty good too! Just a shame that the gorgeous, vast bed was just hers, and that the rooftop bar Champagne was shared with workmates. Lovely as they were, she hastens to add. But when you're in such a fabulous place, so obviously designed for couples, it really accentuates the singleness.
The only pick-ups she had were truly pitiful. They were:
1) The smiley Japanese lady who waved at her from a passing taxi
2) The afro-haired student in the sweaty club who seemed to think pointing passed as a chat-up line
3) The tour guide who looked like Moby who the others were determined to set her up with. They danced to A-ha and NWA and he looked a little awkward. Lovely, but awkward.
Ummm. That's it. Shameful, isn't it? But let's forget about dating (believe me, she is trying!).
The main thing is, she loved DC. She swooned over the Smithsonian, had the best sushi in her life, cycled round the Capitol, found her favourite bar in the world (The Gibson, U Street), lusted after the beautiful things in the shops, and loved her own company and her newfound work friends'.
And after all that? She did come home with a man, believe it or not.
He looks great in pants, comes with his own (magnetic) wardrobe, is living on her fridge (currently in superhero garb with a garland of flowers round his neck)... and goes by the name Obama.
Friday, 11 September 2009
A gap...
She has taken a little hiatus, both from the blog and from the dating world, as you may have noticed.
Don't take it personally folks, there was a possibly festival-related flu-ness thing going on, which required her to make her signature cocktail of blackcurrent Lemsip, apple squash and Bombay Sapphire.
Somehow she survived both the flu (okay, bad cold. whatever.) and that concoction, and was thrown back into the wonderful world of work, where things have been a bit too busy, it has to be said. Whatever happened to the silly season?
Anyway, she is very, very excited indeed about a trip to Washington DC next Friday, where she is hoping for some SATC (or should that be SADC?) action with a hot American politico. Look, it could happen, okay?? Don't burst her bubble just yet! Stranger things have happened on press trips, after all.
She is also trying to rope Miss H into some dating shenanigans - speed dating with wine tasting, and an indie dating night where everyone brings along their favourite record are the top two contenders at the mo. Any other quirky dating nights you know of? Send them this way!
Don't take it personally folks, there was a possibly festival-related flu-ness thing going on, which required her to make her signature cocktail of blackcurrent Lemsip, apple squash and Bombay Sapphire.
Somehow she survived both the flu (okay, bad cold. whatever.) and that concoction, and was thrown back into the wonderful world of work, where things have been a bit too busy, it has to be said. Whatever happened to the silly season?
Anyway, she is very, very excited indeed about a trip to Washington DC next Friday, where she is hoping for some SATC (or should that be SADC?) action with a hot American politico. Look, it could happen, okay?? Don't burst her bubble just yet! Stranger things have happened on press trips, after all.
She is also trying to rope Miss H into some dating shenanigans - speed dating with wine tasting, and an indie dating night where everyone brings along their favourite record are the top two contenders at the mo. Any other quirky dating nights you know of? Send them this way!
Tuesday, 1 September 2009
Fast train to Dumpsville....
It had to be done. And so, despite her friends saying it was never going to happen, she told Daniel that this thing was never going to get off the ground. She did stop short of saying he was frigid, which is what Miss H (her festival buddy) was telling all and sundry at Reading on the weekend!
Urgh. It really is the worst thing to have to do. Especially with a three-day-festival-comedown-hangover while you're walking along watching everyone else having fun by the pubs in Hammersmith.
But she called (cop out? perchance.) and bumbled on for a little while about how much fun she'd had at Reading and asked how his weekend had been (he'd done "not much" other than having been to his brother's house. call her a bitchy cowface, but she likes to be intellectually stimulated and also occasionally made to feel a little jealous of the exciting things other people have been doing).
Anyway. She ummed and ahhed and then called it all off. Belted out the old lines about it being more of a friendship than a relationship and not really working out for her. She explained she was absolutely shit at doing things like this. Not sure if that helped. Felt a bit bad he then sent a text apologising if he had done anything wrong. Which he hadn't. Perhaps also suggesting they go out to gigs together was a bad idea as well. Altogether, she'd give herself a B-minus for her efforts. Did the deed, completed successfully, but hardly excelled at it.
She took herself off to Broken Embraces afterwards and for some cheap Chinese which somehow managed to make things feel a little better.
Hey-ho (and why is that entering the dictionary? But anyway) and, indeed, onwards and upwards. Next!
Urgh. It really is the worst thing to have to do. Especially with a three-day-festival-comedown-hangover while you're walking along watching everyone else having fun by the pubs in Hammersmith.
But she called (cop out? perchance.) and bumbled on for a little while about how much fun she'd had at Reading and asked how his weekend had been (he'd done "not much" other than having been to his brother's house. call her a bitchy cowface, but she likes to be intellectually stimulated and also occasionally made to feel a little jealous of the exciting things other people have been doing).
Anyway. She ummed and ahhed and then called it all off. Belted out the old lines about it being more of a friendship than a relationship and not really working out for her. She explained she was absolutely shit at doing things like this. Not sure if that helped. Felt a bit bad he then sent a text apologising if he had done anything wrong. Which he hadn't. Perhaps also suggesting they go out to gigs together was a bad idea as well. Altogether, she'd give herself a B-minus for her efforts. Did the deed, completed successfully, but hardly excelled at it.
She took herself off to Broken Embraces afterwards and for some cheap Chinese which somehow managed to make things feel a little better.
Hey-ho (and why is that entering the dictionary? But anyway) and, indeed, onwards and upwards. Next!
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