I sometimes go to the Wellcome centre, because I am convinced that I will meet the man of my dreams there. I almost met him outside Sainsbury's today, but I didn't have the guts to give him my number. Also, he would have turned it down as his leaflet was about deliveries from independent shops, and I was there clutching my supermarket bag ( Read more... )

So it turns out that SOMETIMES, when a boy (maybe I will call him a man given age and to congratulate him on his behaviour) says they are busy one week (bro's wedding) and will arrange something for the next week, they are not giving you the brush off and will invite you to dinner the next week. I perhaps was hasty in giving him an excellent ( Read more... )

Maybe I should just give in and date the boy who KEEPS sending me post. He's obviously not just trying to sleep with me...

N is like a slightly dubious character in a chic lit book. Boho flat filled with glass bottles, chairs from Pitt Rivers research centre skip, silver cutlery from charity shops etc. Dresses exactly like a psychiatrist- unironed shirts, brown trousers, a watch with a worn leather strap that looks like it should be on a professor in the 1980s. Asking ( Read more... )

That is all.

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Going on a date with a fully Italian man on Friday. Not particularly interested in the man himself, but had to get a date quickly for fear that boredom would make me convert a friendship. It will all fall apart when he realises that I dislike wine....

Every boy I've ever seriously liked has been just a massive let down. I don't know if that's just men, or my poor taste. Bright side is continuation of being beautifully over R2 and being again in the lovely position of caring the least.

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Before withdrawing myself gracefully from the N-Castle situation, should I tell him that I really like him?? I mean, I have NOTHING to lose, except for my dignity, and I have a loose loyalty to that anyway.

If so, how do I phrase it without sounding like a fruit-loop?

I hate to jump on the cheese-wagon, but having the Olympics in London was the best ever. Going to the olympics has been my dream since playing Summer Games 1996 on the gameboy. London has changed me into someone who loves everything. I literally gushed the other day about Upper Street on a sunny weekend morning, with the Dads taking their babies ( Read more... )

I thought I would have a good cry about N-castle and then get over it. Turns out that I really have lost the ability to have a good cry, so now am left to wallow instead.