I’m exhausted. I haven’t spent one night at home this week, and I’m slowly loosing the will to keep my eyes open. Luckily due to my dentist I’m finishing work at one to go and have my teeth cleaned, hurrah. And Its Friday which means tomorrow I won’t be getting out of bed for love nor money. But maybe for some choice TV.
Last night was brilliant- I was taken to Soho Theatre to watch Sue Perkins do stand up comedy (remember Sue Perkins? Part of Mel and Sue’s Light Lunch?) which was absolutely fabulous I recommend it to anyone- but it’s only on till the 16th in Soho which is a shame as I desperately want to take my mom. I’m very glad all I had to do was sit and laugh, nothing scary about the evening after all, apart from perhaps my date’s intensity. He was lovely though and had bought me a belated birthday present, the whole series of Spaced, which I’ve never seen- but hopefully it’s my kind of humour. I was also reminded of how gorgeous he is, and how wonderfully tall.
But. Unfortunately, and I have no idea why, he doesn’t excite me the way the Musician does, he’s just not as challenging which is great as a breath of fresh air but I’m not sure his mediocrity has permanence in my world. He’s just too nice to me and I find that utterly boring (and yes, I’m aware how unhealthy that sounds).
I think the reason I’m so currently infatuated with The Musician is the whole sending me music thing. He sends me on average two songs a day: todays have been Beast of Burden by the Rolling Stones and Ode to Billy Joe. I love these songs, all of them are brilliant and well picked- I also associate them with him, and so every time I listen to one of the tracks it sublimely sends out signals like “The Musician, The Musician, love The Musician”. He’s a marketing genius.
Date with Lover tonight if he actually manages to turn up this time, I’ve not heard much from him this week and am doubtful of a good outcome tonight. Fuck.
Enjoy your weekends everybody xx
Firstly.
Spaced is ace. If you have seen Shaun of the Dead or Hot Fuzz you will know the kind of humour involved.
Secondly.
I know exactly what you mean about 'too nice.' It has been the cause of, variously, heartbreak, headfuck and general disaster for me (and most other women I know) and, unfortunately, all you can do is follow your heart. If you're anything like me, no matter how lovely and nice and 'perfect' a bloke may be, I will always endeavour to fuck it up royally. Although I now have someone wonderful in my life and am trying my damnedest to not end up with the ruins of this fledgling relationship smouldering in flames around me while I stand there with a look on my face like Wayne Campbell in the 'disaster' ending of Wayne's World.
Good luck, my dear, and remember: Men: can't live with 'em, can't legally kill 'em.
x