Dear Future Boyfriend, Part Eight

I’ve prepared for you to come into my life and shake up my mundane life like in Pleasantville where they discover dirty things and life changes from black and white to full-on colour. I cannot wait for that time. But I realise you may not have planned for me to enter your life. Yes, I know we’re meant to be and we complete each other but in all honestly, sharing your life, even if it’s your soul-mate can be an adjustment.

When we meet I’m kinda hoping we go straight to the honeymoon phase. And when we eventually decide to move in together (as a trial for our perfect marriage), it’s going to be “christening” the flat in every available yet comfortable surface and giggling while we unpack boxes and covering each other’s noses in toxic paint like a stock photo. What I don’t want is our crazy habits and mannerisms to get in the way so we become that awkward couple no one can bare to be around.

you and me in our first place. if i get really skinny and dye my hair and grow. but you get the gist.

To alleviate some tensions now, I’ve decided to jot down a few things I’m good at and some I’m very bad at. Just so you know, you can prepare and stuff. And in case you’re wondering, yes, being considerate is one I’m very good at. You’re welcome!

Things I’m good at:

- Pop culture references. These skills not only make my banter witty but also help when faced with the Film and Television category at pub quizzes.
- Kissing.

just the natural state of my lips. always ready for a make-out session.

- Cleaning. Not crazy obsessive but a little crazy. You’re allowed to have drinks without coasters and I won’t freak out if the dishes aren’t done. A week later I might say something though.
- Butter chicken. For reals.
- Keeping my crazy inside. You’re gonna think you’ve hit the jackpot when I don’t get jealous or freak out when you don’t call. Really I’m keeping my crazy inside so I don’t scare you off. But be careful as you’ll find out below.
- 80s song lyrics. I know an assortment from Salt-N-Pepa to the Footloose soundtrack to some Joy Division.
- Hand massages. And by hand I mean the one with five fingers. I should actually say manicures. I’ll totes soak your hands, do your cuticles and finish off with a nice buff and polish.
- Remembering to buy milk. Do not underestimate this.
- Taking off my make-up before going to bed. You’ll thank me when we’re older.
- Being nice to parents.

Things I’m bad at:

- Money. Not others which you’ll be pleased to hear. But mine. A teeny problem if we plan on having a joint account.
- Cuddling. I know I’m a bad example of the female species but I much prefer my space and love to stretch out. It’s a lot harder for me to feel comfortable if you want to spoon for several hours. I don’t fall asleep, I lie there wondering if you can feel my belly fat or whether my hair is in your face.

my perfect sleeping situation.

- Not keeping my waxing appointment. I get busy and then my favourite therapist is unavailable and I cannot just go flashing my area to just anyone and then the thought of hot wax…let’s just say there are other things I’d rather do.
- Failing to keep my crazy inside. Normally I’m quite good at it but every now and again things get too much and I go a little Courtney Love.
- Talking too much.
- Never taking out the rubbish.
- Forgetting to switch off plugs.
- Choreography. Think we’re going to have to do one of those funny Youtube wedding videos to Smack My Bitch Up because this bitch cannot waltz.
- Understanding rugby. But this won’t bother you. After all, as you’re my FB you like football.
- Eating neatly. Not a meal goes by without me spilling on my clothes or crumbs in my hair.
- Video games. Unless we’re talking about Wii. Then I kill it.

Ex-Oh! Ex-Oh!

All By Myself*

*Excuse the moany, feeling-sorry-myself title. This is not a woe-is-me blog post. It’s a bit moany but nothing so sad it’ll make the reader even want to do a razor-blade action.


In one of my favourite Sex and the City episodes Carrie and Aidan have just moved in together and it takes a little adjusting. Carrie then laments to the girls about how she misses so many things she couldn’t do before she had a dude hanging around her place. This in turn leads the other girls to reveal some of their private activities they love to do. Sometimes it just seems like there are some things that feel better when done alone like…

…going to the movies by yourself. Yes it’s awesome with a date but there’s something absolutely fabulous when it’s just you. Maybe it’s because you don’t have to pretend to like arty, clever movies and can see what you really want (One ticket for Fast and Furious Five please!) Maybe it’s because you can overload your popcorn with salt ‘n’ vinegar flavouring and no one makes passive aggressive comments. Whatever the reasoning, it is something to be relished.

…making a big pot of pasta and then sitting down to watch Julie and Julia. The story behind this is, one day one of my gays gave me a copy of J&J. He also instructed me not to watch it without a vast supply of food at the ready. Knowing the paltry ingredients in my fridge weren’t going to cut it, I bought some fancy stuff to make one of those creamy tomato-based pastas with lots of bacon and feta. The results were magical.

…playing cheesy music and cleaning the house. I’d love to be able to have someone clean my flat but for some reason I get a little joy from cleaning it myself. Maybe it’s because I use the opportunity to parade in short shorts and yellow gloves – once a fashionista, always a fashionista – but more likely it’s the fact that I was forced to help my mother clean our house and I haven’t gotten out of the routine yet. Saying that I’m not really a neat and tidy person and there are days when my sink is flooded with dishes. But once I get that feeling, helped on by playing the best and worst of the 80s, I’m in my zone. And all of a sudden I cannot stop until there’s no mildew on the bathroom tiles or until all the wax has been cleared from the mantelpiece. I'd like to admit I'm a cleaning machine but after years of living with her, that title will always belong to my mother.

Your fave all-by-myself pastimes?

Ex-Oh! Ex-Oh!