2013: The High (and Low) Lights

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CC Image courtesy of hoangnt on FlickrFor me, the best part of blogging, aside from writing the wretched stuff, is hearing that someone enjoyed a post.  So today, because I figured I deserve a holiday, I’m posting the best bits of 2013 according to you, my beloved (and for many of you I mean that quite literally – be worried) readers.


First up is Bright Star, a favourite of James’, in which I explain to Toby why I like Joe’s flatmate

‘He’s funny,’ I say.

Or rather he thinks I’m funny, which is much more important.

A grilling from Sandwich comes a close second.

‘I thought you were great friends.’

He actually said great chums, but it wouldn’t do to alienate readers.


Glossing over the surprised tone with which he said it, Flatmate pronounced No Sex and the City to be ‘quite witty’:

‘He doesn’t believe in sex before marriage,’ I say.

‘Oh God.’

‘He’s kinda the problem.’

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New Initiative made Lucy laugh out loud, twice:

Beatrice is Tinder-happy…

When they can spell, even if not attractive, I continyue writing.’

And learning to spell, presumably.

… whilst MBE is feeling increasingly cynical about the whole thing.

I’m bored of openers like ‘How are you?’ (bored), ‘Any exciting plans for the weekend?’ (no, I prefer boring plans), ‘what are up to this evening?’ (I’m not going to sleep with you just because we live three miles apart) – and the rest.


A compliment from my harshest critic always makes my day.  My mother’s top 3 for the year:

Story of My Life, in which Beatrice and I join stalking forces.

Flatmate gives me a dose of reality On The Couch.


Love Poetry, in which I fancy a gay man.  Like you’ve never done the same thing.


So there you have it.  Written (fittingly) proof that this writer is neurotic, needy, insecure, and in dire need of validation and praise.  And that’s just the writing.

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Better Men

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CC Image courtesy of alexis mire on FlickrGoogle ‘how to stop obsessing over a guy’ on my laptop, and you’ll be met by a wall of red.  Frustratingly, I keep getting the same answer: something about being happy with, and confident in, your life as a single person.  Looking for a man shouldn’t be your priority, Google tells me.  Bit rich coming from a search engine.

Another piece of dating advice I frequently stumble upon is know what you want in a man.  Until recently, I’ve been fairly clueless on this front.  (Male and… male?)  But then a couple of things happened.

I had coffee with a colleague – a girl – and we discovered we had loads of mutual friends, including Will.  It was through Will that I met Joe.

‘So do you know Joe Buckley?’ I say.

She frowns.  ‘No, I mean, I know of him, but no, I don’t know him well.’

I hesitate.

‘And… Tom Randall?’

Joe’s flatmate.

Her face softens.  ‘Aaaw yes, he’s so lovely.’

The praise keeps coming.  I tell her about Joe and I.

‘It’s annoying because the night I met Joe, I also met Tom, and, well, I can’t help feeling Tom’s the better man!’

The kind of man I’d be looking for – funny, kind, passionate, artistic – were I not happy in my life as a single person.

She nods, smiling.  ‘He is a really decent guy.’

She promises to introduce us at some point.

Then at a party a few weeks later, I bump into Very Pretty Girl, and she gives me the lowdown on Nick.  He’s calm, she tells me, gentle, romantic yet down-to-earth, has beautiful manners and a terrific sense of humour.  Oh and he’s writing a book.  Correction, a publisher has asked him to write a book.  So there you have it: what I’m looking for in a man.  Or would be, were I not happy etc etc.

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And So Much Wiser

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CC Image courtesy of sean_hickin on FlickrI’m marking my birthday – it’s this weekend, I’m registered at Waitrose – by becoming not older, but considerably wiser.  Keep your eyes peeled for mature dating behaviours:

Realistic expectations

Me: He hasn’t replied.  When do I give up hope?

Flatmate: At this stage, you shouldn’t have any hopes.

Me: No, well, obviously I don’t but…


… greater discretion…

Me: Did I tell you I asked Joe about his flatmate?

Mother (rolling eyes and sighing): No.

Me: That’s strange.  I told everyone else.

 CC Image courtesy of estimmel on Flickr

… and a stronger sense of self-worth…

Beatrice: I still haven’t figured out what your type is.


Me:  Male?

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Bright Star

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I’ve asked Toby for advice about the whole ‘Joe’s flatmate‘ situation.  Or lack thereof.Thalia_sarcophagus_Louvre

‘What’s so amazing about this guy?’ he says.

Aside from the fact he’s not you?

‘Do you want to violently undress him?’

This, I ignore.

‘He’s funny…’ I say.

Or rather he thinks I’m funny, which is much more important.

‘… and he seemed to like me.’

You should try it sometime.

‘Not to be sneered at, no?’

Toby’s verdict comes back:

‘Funny and into you: necessary but not sufficient.’

He also looks a bit like Ben Whishaw.  I rest my case.

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Mixed Media

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CC Image courtesy of You As A Machine on FlickrIt’s the SMS equivalent of hen’s teeth: a text from Joe. It begins:

Hey! I’m clearly rubbish at communicating by Facebook

Not as rubbish as you are at communicating by text!

… so I thought I’€™d text you instead…

I laugh.

He goes on to suggest catching up over a drink. I compose a mental list of questions to put to him:

  1. Is your flatmate single?
  2. Why isn’t your flatmate on Facebook?
  3. Or LinkedIn?
  4. Or…

He is on Google.

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Related Posts:

Bright Star

Friends With Benefits

Good Date Gone Bad

Happy Couple