Couples. Couples everywhere.

People I know have started inviting me out with them and their friends now that I am Single. I suppose previously they thought that the marital state would mean I already had plans...Nevertheless, it's very thoughtful and I am pleased to be invited and pleased to accept.

There is just one thing that has reared its inconsiderate supremely unattractive head recently and I am finding it very difficult to cope with, particularly when arranging to meet up somewhere public, such as a tube station. Places where Other People arrange to meet up too. Suddenly it seems to me that everyone in London is in a relationship of some sort. Every which way I turn, couples all over the place. Meeting up, going home, kissing, hugging, laughing. Fuckers. I barely lasted until midnight before I finally had to acknowledge my utter misery. My mood crashed and shattered on the floor of the Ha! Ha! Bar. I turned my back on it and went straight home.

There was one highlight of the evening. I learned a new swear word. Putain. Look it up. (Clue: it's French)

Hunting (High and Low)

So it's been a bit since I placed my Pick Me ad for a flat-share so it's time for a progress update.

The Scorecard:
5+ stars = When can I move in (assuming you want me to)?
Double stars for “I like the way you think”
Double negatives for “wrong on so many levels”

Flat 1
Who: Two boys; one girl.
For: I was offered coffee; it’s near to the gym; I know the area well (3 stars)
Against: a lorra lorra stairs (double negative); a dubious snow globe collection (double negative) (-4 stars)
The room: good enough (1 star)
Verdict: 0 stars = No

Flat 2
Who: Two girls.
For: very friendly; they shared their wine with me (double stars) (3 stars)
Against: loud talking, talking very loud make it stop; they gave me an up-down look at the door (double negative); don’t like that particular street = (-4 stars)
The room: good enough (1 star)
Verdict: 0 stars = No

Flat 3 (actually more of a house)
Who: Two girls; two boys.
For: I got lost and one of the boys came to find me, how nice is that? (double stars); really lovely people (3 stars)
Against: living with a couple (double negative); very narrow poky house; busy, noisy area with some dodginess within my peripheral vision = (-4 stars)
The room: not great (0 stars)
Verdict: -1 star = No

What have I learned? In no particular order…
1) Don’t go for places where the rent is suspiciously cheaper.
2) Don’t go even if they say “we’re not a couply-couple”.
3) Don’t ask about the snow globes. Trust me.

Will the rest of the week and weekend brings more treats of this ilk?…I remain surprisingly hopeful that I am close, so close.

So Low

I have a tick. Not the bloodsucking variety, but the variety that you develop in order to cope with some particular stressful circumstance. I recognised my tick today, tipped my hat to it, when I connected two unrelated events and leapt wildly to the conclusion that mine is in fact a bona fide tick.

First someone said: "You're very attached to your iPod of late, aren't you?" I looked up at him, and askance (he's very tall you see, and he was standing to my left) and said something brilliant like "Am I?"

And then a bit later while I was making tea or something equally mundane, I had a rare-but-becoming-more-common-yet-perfectly-understandable-given-my-personal-circumstances mood crash...and the first thing I did when I got back to my desk was select a playlist, pop the little white pips into my ears and sink into it.

Music, my drug.

Would you live with me?

I placed an ad today on one of those free online looking-for-a-room sites.

I spent some pencil-chewing time thinking about how to present myself and what I am looking for. It was harderer than I thought it would be. I started with some lovely descriptive words and strung those together with some sturdy joining words, then I sprinkled in some very sensible words for balance and weaved a magical piece of prose. OK, it was legible and that was good enough I thought, so I pressed Post My Ad Now! (or summat like that).

So proud was I of my published accomplishment that I promptly whizzed the URL to my friend in a show of look-at-me-so-independent-already. She replied immediately-

"Erm, are you sure? I don't really think you should put the word "bedroom" in the same sentence as the word "socialise"...Wrong impression, know what I mean?"

"Urggh, that's gross," I replied with vigourously executed disgustinged-faces.

"...and perhaps you shouldn't use the word "fun" either. You'll attract party animals."

"Oh, boy, we can't be having any animals a-partying in my home, verily no!"

"So, try again and send it to me before you post it, OK?"

She may as well have patted me on the head and gone poor, poor you, whatever is going to become of you in the great bigedness of the world.

She's right of course, I have no idea what I'm doing. So this is the ad, eventually posted after much wordsmithery:

I am looking for a friendly household with a decent size room where I can relax. I am 30 years old, easy going, love music, reading and the internet (wireless broadband would be good). A glass of wine and a chat is also a good idea from time to time. A good shower is important! I am reliable and consistent and I pay the bills on time.

Form an orderly line please! As if. Not one response yet.

Thank you, Anna Pickard

Sunday started like every Sunday has started for...well for some time now. Eyes open at 7a.m. Que? On the weekend? On goes the iPod, which is next to my bed within half-awake-fumbling reach (thank you Logitech® Portable Speakers for iPod). I get up, go to the loo, make a cup of coffee, get back into bed, lie there for a while listening to my tunes with my coffee resting warmly on my bosom. Then I snooze a bit and am woken by my stomach grumbling something about being woken up at the dawn of time yet still waiting for a feeding. So I get up again and make some toast and some tea.

Today's toast topping: peanut butter sprinkled with pumpkin seeds. I recommend it, it's too tasty.

I take my feast back to bed and boot up my laptop for some surfing, some Myspacing and some emailing. Same old same.

So there I am, toast'd and tea'd, writing an email to someone ("someone" is said with gravitas) and it's a difficult email and I'm still not sure if I will send it. I want to put in a quote from the the Wizard of Oz and I wanted to make sure I had it right so I Googled it. The first listing is how I found Anna's Little Red Boat.

Her blog distracted me from the task at hand (probably a good thing) and I have just spent the last hour wiping tears from my cheeks. Tears of laughter you'll be pleased to hear. It's the best thing that could have happened to me this very Sunday. Very funny. Did I mention she's funny? It's just what I needed. So, thank you Anna Pickard for making my day. Punk. I haven't laughed like that for such a long time. (The kind of laugh where no sound comes out and then you snort like a pig - the best!)

Flatshare Virgin

And so it has come to pass that I find myself looking for a room to rent. What qualities ensure you'll make and/or find a good flatmate? Do I live with boys, do I live with girls? Do I choose somewhere new, do I stick with what I know? What if I hate it? What if they hate me? This is all new to me. Almost thirty-something and starting what is essentially a new life. But, I keep telling myself in a stern voice, I love change, remember. (See Born Under a Wandering Star). I'll be fine.