I don't know what was up with me these past few days but I've been awful fucking fidgety. Distracted, impatient, cranky. So on Wednesday night I spent the evening cooking up a storm, in an effort to ease my jangling nerves. The results? A massive pot of truly excellent chili (the Swede was digging in at 11pm and pronounced it to be "werry gub" - it was hotter than he'd bargained for) and another cauldron full of my should-be-patented beef and beer stew (I had no Guinness, so I threw in some Brahma beers instead). I have limited freezer space and can't quite manage to eat 10 dinners by myself, so I've been feeding the Swede whenever possible (he's been eating two dinners all week) and I had the SWF* over for dinner yesterday evening.
We haven't seen much of one another of late. I missed her birthday celebrations as I was ill (dentist-related trauma, don't ask) and we were both busy over Christmas, so last night was a chance for a proper catch-up. I had much to fill her in on; my recent torrid affairs and tidbits from everyone else's. I love gossiping with herself and the Jock** because no detail is too gory or insignificant. I think the friendships you forge in college are of a special nature; all thedrink drugs wanton sex*** study and hard graft leads to very open, funny and honest, I-will-always-love-you-because-you-know-too-much relationships. Also; when the three of us are together we inevitably end up talking about men's willies, a subject which fascinates me and one which is so rarely if ever discussed in the polite(ish) company I keep.
Last time I saw her she had a new man (and presumably a new willy to discuss) so I was interested to hear how things were progressing. Or not. Imagine my dismay at receiving this email just hours before the dissection of their sex life was to begin over beef and beer stew:
Reminds me of an awful film that I took pains not to see. She was upset but pragmatic and very funny about it; to borrow a saying from my mother - if wit was shit, she'd be rolling in it. So we had a laugh and then we watched Top Gear, while discussing the relative merits of Clarkson and Hammond and whether or not it would ever be okay to have sex with Jeremy Paxman.
*I asked her what she'd like her blog handle to be, she suggested Single White Female.
**She didn't get to choose her own. But in college she was a sporty jock, and now she works in radio, which is close enough to disc jockey for me.
***Total lie - I studied Irish and archaeology. Nobody ever wanted to have wanton sex with me.
We haven't seen much of one another of late. I missed her birthday celebrations as I was ill (dentist-related trauma, don't ask) and we were both busy over Christmas, so last night was a chance for a proper catch-up. I had much to fill her in on; my recent torrid affairs and tidbits from everyone else's. I love gossiping with herself and the Jock** because no detail is too gory or insignificant. I think the friendships you forge in college are of a special nature; all the
Last time I saw her she had a new man (and presumably a new willy to discuss) so I was interested to hear how things were progressing. Or not. Imagine my dismay at receiving this email just hours before the dissection of their sex life was to begin over beef and beer stew:
I realised this morning that I wield a weird type of power in the office. Every time I get dumped (more on that later) one of the girls in work gets engaged the very same day! Looking back through the years, the 100% success rate can't be a coincidence. They should start setting me up with guys who 'aren't looking for anything serious' so that in a few short weeks, their boyfriends will go down on bended knee. I could charge for my services and everything!
Reminds me of an awful film that I took pains not to see. She was upset but pragmatic and very funny about it; to borrow a saying from my mother - if wit was shit, she'd be rolling in it. So we had a laugh and then we watched Top Gear, while discussing the relative merits of Clarkson and Hammond and whether or not it would ever be okay to have sex with Jeremy Paxman.
*I asked her what she'd like her blog handle to be, she suggested Single White Female.
**She didn't get to choose her own. But in college she was a sporty jock, and now she works in radio, which is close enough to disc jockey for me.
***Total lie - I studied Irish and archaeology. Nobody ever wanted to have wanton sex with me.
