tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10899812303123401962024-03-05T06:56:41.370+00:00Musin', Cruisin' and Bruisin'A coming-of-(middle)-age account of the perils and pitfalls of late onset internet dating, including disastrous encounters you'd really rather forget...Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-10404661307385110202011-07-24T22:36:00.000+01:002011-07-24T22:36:41.928+01:00Au Revoir, Mes Chers Amis...<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">...for a few weeks. Here you go - open <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7nZKMm-nOsc">this</a> on another page now and you won't be disappointed. Well, you probably will be, but it might take you old uns down Memory Lane for a moment. Done it? Don't it just make you wanna break plates? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">OK, guys! Time to hit the convent trail! I’m packed and all iPodded and Kindled up. The iPod is chocca with the likes of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8Rwz6zBJSE">this,</a> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PrkTWEETZEY">this</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L7JCcHOnMyw">this</a>, and there are equally weird combinations of literature going on in the Kindle; plenty of stuff en francais, of course, some gloriously free classics like <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Middlemarch-ebook/dp/B000JMLLEI/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1311459698&sr=1-1">Middlemarch</a> along with what could turn out to be my favourite (hehe!) <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_38?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=rampant+kindle+edition+-+saskia+walker&sprefix=rampant+kindle+edition+-+saskia+walker">Rampant</a> - very, very dodgy! It’ll keep me amused in the wee small hours… ;)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Stella, unlike me, has been busy on the dating front, very busy, so I shall at some point be posting her latest adventures, you’ll be glad to hear. She is, it has to be said, consistently more <strike>reckless</strike> <strike>crazy</strike> <strike>hopelessly romantic</strike> interesting than I am. Plus, she's willing to put in the (wo)man hours involved in achieving her goal; that's what I love about her - the relentless <strike>inability to learn</strike> optimism. So, in between <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-left: 18.0pt;"><span style="color: #666633; font-size: 11pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Matins : the night office (2 am),<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div style="margin-left: 18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666633; font-size: 11pt;">Lauds : the early morning service of divine office (5am)</span><span style="color: #702810; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div style="margin-left: 18.0pt;"><span style="color: #666633; font-size: 11pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Prime : The 6am service,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div style="margin-left: 18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666633; font-size: 11pt;">Terce : the second of the Little Hours of divine office (9 am),</span><span style="color: #702810; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div style="margin-left: 18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666633; font-size: 11pt;">Sext : the third of the Little Hours of divine office (12 pm),</span><span style="color: #702810; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div style="margin-left: 18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666633; font-size: 11pt;">Nones : the fourth of the Little Hours of the divine office (3 pm),</span><span style="color: #702810; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div style="margin-left: 18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666633; font-size: 11pt;">Vespers : the evening service of divine office (4 - 5pm),</span><span style="color: #702810; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div style="margin-left: 18.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666633; font-size: 11pt;">Compline : the last of the day services of divine office (6pm),</span><span style="color: #702810; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div style="margin-left: 18.0pt;"><span style="color: #666633; font-size: 11pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I’ll try to sneak out my netbook and tell you what’s been going on in her life of late. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Lord, I’m gonna be knackered from all that praying, and it’s gonna play havoc with my knees, I can tell you, but there is also the merest possibility that I might be able to sneak out when the Sisters aren’t looking - you know, hide myself in a passing haycart or something - and if I get any, ahem, ‘action’ anywhere, you shall be the first to be informed. Don’t hold your breath – me and my luck, setra. </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXg2L3XtYDXNyu9HuVZfKR32Z1BSVf7V5zz58BAQA4OZkmGa69KNDoSDUXJNkV-gXo421xN0BW8JCb5Vz7qaQsFXvrqCNQcaINv1GN-RtYSTbPjPORnRwxa8dGy5Ty8T4PTt6V7zsc0NA/s1600/cousin+bett+as+nunwith+travelling+gear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXg2L3XtYDXNyu9HuVZfKR32Z1BSVf7V5zz58BAQA4OZkmGa69KNDoSDUXJNkV-gXo421xN0BW8JCb5Vz7qaQsFXvrqCNQcaINv1GN-RtYSTbPjPORnRwxa8dGy5Ty8T4PTt6V7zsc0NA/s400/cousin+bett+as+nunwith+travelling+gear.jpg" width="313" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-38432615382008830542011-07-17T18:57:00.003+01:002011-07-17T19:06:34.069+01:00You're Ugly, You're Old And You're Bloody Irritating...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Geddit? You clicked in because you thought it was someone saying it to me, right? Nah! Or me saying it to someone else. Also nah. But...</span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Oh my word! Remember <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/07/oh-grow-up.html">this</a>, followed <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/07/plus-ca-change-plus-cest-la-meme.html">by this</a>, culminating <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/07/not-so-mellow-mega-yellow.html">in this?</a> Well, the emails kept on a-comin’ until I finally got heartily sick of 'em. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am quite sure the initial ‘flick off’ was clear, elegant-ish, and, as far as I’m concerned, quite kind really. This was not enough. Either it’s a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Men_Are_from_Mars,_Women_Are_from_Venus">Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus</a> moment, or else it goes way beyond that and he is, after all, <strike>mildly deranged</strike>, <strike>a psychopathic stalker</strike> a very needy person. Or, as someone more generous than I pointed out, he just fancies me. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I told him that:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We really didn’t have enough in common for me to imagine a relationship</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I could not envisage him in most of my life’s scenarios</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">While I enjoyed his company for a <strike>very long and arduous</strike> day, merely feeling OK in someone’s company was not in itself sufficient to make me want to seek more, particularly with the life I lead. </span></li>
</ul><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">OK, I phrased it all slightly better than that, but that was the gist.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">He got back to me with the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><i>vast</i> </b></span>number of things we have in common. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;">(Er… that’ll be two. Two things which I would be happy to do perhaps up to three times a year; I've since learned he does them week in week out.)</span> He then told me <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;">(note <b><u>TOLD</u></b> me)</span> that he knew exactly why I was putting him off: I was merely afraid of having a physical relationship with him and that I need not worry because he is a patient man.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"> (Well, yes, good grief! He’d have to be <i><b>very, very, very</b></i> patient if he expected me to get into bed with him. When is Armageddon exactly? Let me just shake off that little spinal shiver there… woueghph!)</span> Oh yes, and that in fact he’d been in a similar situation before, and the lady in question (not boasting, he said, just the reality) ended up telling him he was a wonderful lover. Good for her! Then there was a pile of nonsensical stuff about my thinking my family and children might get in the way and that I should not sacrifice my happiness for theirs; I should follow my feelings. How I love these "<a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/03/you-wont-find-another-fool-like-me-babe_26.html">Should Scenarios</a>"...<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">What feelings would they be then? Because the only feeling I am aware of at this point is that I am right royally fromaged off with this whole business. Go away, you irritating little mouche! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwevNznLWnprhiZs_5tzWmJd6Hlu_GeL8xGo3f5u_K2lP1IRD3m4snz3X_bkfzd1gcvpjzjk1IqhqQ0FZgUTk6S9Doop0qgHCaf2WeB7UqQhPuTWytxERdFJEGq5IHC6CaPUTTrzArTDc/s1600/bette+and+cropped+fly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwevNznLWnprhiZs_5tzWmJd6Hlu_GeL8xGo3f5u_K2lP1IRD3m4snz3X_bkfzd1gcvpjzjk1IqhqQ0FZgUTk6S9Doop0qgHCaf2WeB7UqQhPuTWytxERdFJEGq5IHC6CaPUTTrzArTDc/s400/bette+and+cropped+fly.jpg" width="361" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anyway, I think he has finally got the message now. I did it to the very best of my ability without actually saying the F word accompanied by an O and a further 2 Fs; I'm tellin' ya - it ain't easy. Diplomatic and proud! Sign me up for the Foreign Office! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Fortunately, I'm going into prolonged seclusion shortly, back to the convent for a little downtime where the internet is only available intermittently and that’s only if I can smuggle in my laptop and keep it concealed under the wafer-thin mattress. I might be able to post the odd few words in the dead of night when Sisters Marie-Claude, Clothilde and Bernadette are busy whittling candles, but I can't promise - depends on their level of concentration during the process - ya know what I'm sayin'. The likelihood of an inspiring male turning up (except for the obvious one and that's, erm, kind of blasphemous...) is minimal; however, I can get reception on my phone there, so - with any luck - Stella might have something to tell me which I can pass on to her enormous fan club. </span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Might just catch you before I go. Kiss, kiss, hug, hug and all that palaver. :) </span></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-16658019682326297712011-07-12T19:18:00.000+01:002011-07-12T19:18:24.854+01:00The Slave and Stella<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Stella was contacted by a rather good-looking 31 year old. Not her usual fare, being over 10 years younger, but he was a great guy, wrote an articulate message and their initial chats were very chummy and normal. But time moved on. Several emails in, they started Instant Messaging, and then he said he had a secret that might be seen as weird by some people. Well, you know how nosy she is."Do go on," she said. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">(Just a mo’ - let me get my notebook out to see exactly what she reported. Ah, here it is...) <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Please don’t get offended. You look really gorgeous and I want to be your slave. I’m sure that sounds strange to you. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: Yes,it does. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Don’t be scared or anything. I’m not talking about sex or anything like that, unless you want to that is. I’m not at all pervy.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: I see. I’m not sure I understand what you mean. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: It’s not something you can easily discuss with people. Be open about. I’ve just always wanted to be someone’s slave and do things for them. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: What kind of things? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Just the usual. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her (suspicious)</span>: What <i>usual</i>? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: You know hoovering, washing up, ironing. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUlY68FjucDnFRJXeHUuTlqOCnFL3EZWTsLFlgaFBNcsp3CF7mDtQjg2Y15Gy95vKLWAKnTrE9AnJ0E4kvZz7jfDGCeE3A8WPoWUtwlnTyTM2lXd23imaq1rPrQNaiQCM8VUB_Oy5xcvs/s1600/exclamation+mark.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUlY68FjucDnFRJXeHUuTlqOCnFL3EZWTsLFlgaFBNcsp3CF7mDtQjg2Y15Gy95vKLWAKnTrE9AnJ0E4kvZz7jfDGCeE3A8WPoWUtwlnTyTM2lXd23imaq1rPrQNaiQCM8VUB_Oy5xcvs/s320/exclamation+mark.png" width="127" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Well! <b>WELL! </b>You can imagine how Stella perked up at this prospect! Someone to do the housework – how flippin’ marvellous! (I was already at "Where’s the dotted line? Sign me up!" at this point in her narrative.) <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: And what would I have to do? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: You? You don’t have to do anything. You can just come home and I’ll have dinner waiting for you, then I’ll run the bath for you, put candles round it. That sort of stuff. I’ll rub your feet if you want.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: Why would you want to do all that?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Honestly? I don’t know. It’s just been my dream ever since I was a teenager.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7lEB4dsQOFr5GEtAdPQWmnYGcHTmG8o8v4YmNIwlBCAP8pn7rUawZTvOQKPCbQXlFhRELf_iJfGtZ25_w4xi5TRfzvv__M8TjO7qfVGsbzKks_NjQ5B7ALXPOkI9puGxaz171podd4Ss/s1600/male+torsowith+brush.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7lEB4dsQOFr5GEtAdPQWmnYGcHTmG8o8v4YmNIwlBCAP8pn7rUawZTvOQKPCbQXlFhRELf_iJfGtZ25_w4xi5TRfzvv__M8TjO7qfVGsbzKks_NjQ5B7ALXPOkI9puGxaz171podd4Ss/s320/male+torsowith+brush.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So there you go. Nowt so queer as folk. Now assuming that he is a genuine person and this really is all he wants, what could be the root cause of such a fantasy? Of such a need? According to Stella, in all their correspondence he was charming (but not in a slimey way), decent, not one comma’s worth of lasciviousness. (<a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/06/wheres-roy-orbison-when-you-need-him.html">Sorry if that word is too long for anyone ;)</a>) Her words to me were, "He was a lovely guy, and while I’m giving you the story for the blog, you are on no account to make fun of him."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Well, I’m not and I won’t. It all comes down to this human frailty business again and the lottery of internal wiring. Is this something to do with his mother? Is this something to do with his sexuality? Is being under someone else’s control comfortingly familiar? I haven’t got a clue. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Stella ended the conversation by saying that she was flattered and thanked him for his offer, but she would have to decline. If she accepted, she said, the situation would make her become a mean person and she didn’t want to be that. Nonetheless, she wished him good luck in his search for someone who will let him express his desires. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">OK then. Story over. Let’s get down to business… <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;">Roll up, roll up, roll up!</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It’s just the <u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">housework</span></u> we’re talking about here, girls! You gotta be in it to win it…</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJULEfixiF0vOlu0G8AjlXzhjPGifABHoFQEHVaUd5HT0xe5SYB7YeXrZlf-81NBBmWFsBzNHGi8ky16KQeYJK-zGh01jkliRrY-GsO9jMEUSuwescegkp5m-IXeHDpX7NSPL26XqyoFQ/s1600/housework+table.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJULEfixiF0vOlu0G8AjlXzhjPGifABHoFQEHVaUd5HT0xe5SYB7YeXrZlf-81NBBmWFsBzNHGi8ky16KQeYJK-zGh01jkliRrY-GsO9jMEUSuwescegkp5m-IXeHDpX7NSPL26XqyoFQ/s400/housework+table.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-73143830249190619542011-07-11T20:16:00.000+01:002011-07-11T20:16:56.392+01:00Not So Mellow, Mega Yellow<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Somebody give me a good slap!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Did I say I would extricate myself elegantly? Did I really, uberpeanut-brained as I am, imagine elegance is possible in these situations? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Let me describe what I’m up against. Since yesterday morning <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/07/plus-ca-change-plus-cest-la-meme.html">Martin</a> has sent me: <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Two messages on the website</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Three emails</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">One request for IM</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Eight texts of which four have been of the ‘Can I phone you now?’ followed shortly after by ‘Can we have a chat now?’ variety. The answer has thus far been no because I’ve either had other people around me or have genuinely been otherwise seriously occupied with something else. You know the kind of stuff – about to get in the shower to get ready for work, driving, diagnosing friend’s nervous breakdown, putting my finger in the dike that’s holding back the pile of crap that’s about to engulf me etc. </span></li>
</ul><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That’ll larn me! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">B</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">ollocks! Not ‘appy, not ‘appy at all. If only I weren’t such a mealy, pathetic, cowardy, cowardy custard…</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4OHrQ6OuTwWLfRQdeFerwgcFPU67xdD8mpJrPRvJu4kyZ-iJnnQLOoXfW8yOXY7229mPf6o89yUFTyUV8wlKU9jsr1HcwxWSKMtXq3lrlURuBJzXgzxgYLbjrqBXSbqWHmaZQ2ZFs8hQ/s1600/bette+yellow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4OHrQ6OuTwWLfRQdeFerwgcFPU67xdD8mpJrPRvJu4kyZ-iJnnQLOoXfW8yOXY7229mPf6o89yUFTyUV8wlKU9jsr1HcwxWSKMtXq3lrlURuBJzXgzxgYLbjrqBXSbqWHmaZQ2ZFs8hQ/s320/bette+yellow.jpg" width="291" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anybody got a backbone they could spare?</span><o:p></o:p></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-9843675892364782852011-07-10T17:23:00.008+01:002011-07-10T23:47:17.535+01:00Plus Ca Change, Plus C'est La Meme Bleedin' Chose.<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, yeah, merci beaucoup, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean-Baptiste_Alphonse_Karr">fellow countryman Jean- Baptiste Alphonse Karr</a>. When did I last post anything on here? Hmm. It seems an age. This is because I have been on 3,290 dates. Well, OK, not quite that many. But it feels like it. That’s why I haven’t updated – too busy being miserable! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Here’s my new rule, and if you really love me - family member, friend, follower - please, please, please don’t let me waiver from it. If it’s not absolutely firework-explodingly magnificent on the first date, it is for sure, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><b><u>for sure</u></b></span>, not worth revisiting, no siree! Where might be the most suitable place on my body to have this tattooed? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, most recent dates - Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday, of which two nonsensical repeats. Why do I do to myself? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Do you remember <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/07/oh-grow-up.html">the person I went out with last week,</a> let’s call him, Martin, well, we had an ‘activity’ date – more like mooching round places than activity - but it wasn't merely coffee and/or dinner. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">How shallow am I? I feel like such a schmuck telling you any of this He was a perfect gentleman in all respects: he held the car door open for me, walked on the outside of the pavement, open all doors, bought me a little present (a book about a subject he knows I’m interested in), but… but… No! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The age thing only got worse because I noticed he has this annoying habit. You know when elderly people are reminiscing about something, and they come to the end of a sentence, and then they sort of inhale and exhale with a little groan-sigh, as if ruefully contemplating the magnitude of what they've just said. Well, he did that. All the bloody time.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This would invariably be followed by a little shake of the head. It nearly drove me nuts!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I remember my Grandpapa doing exactly the same thing when he used to sit at the kitchen table talking portentously about the <i>War</i>. Plus, Martin's voice grates – sort of lugubrious. Combine Eeyore, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UeGZkxp5yoM&feature=related">Clement Freud</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qqCRaHGMmA">Amy Turtle</a>. (Haha! How ironic we should be talking about age – who the hell remembers Amy Turtle except me!) Anyway, you get my drift?</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLtlhNJeqomNo0nIwKOjl03TphkP0jJSflkKOaxAFO_QAlLPZgsiqUK0eBgZbteZwataHh4ILj9yl6n60SHv9ikpkazUc9WFVSMPocAVnU-sBZ-cqQXah4H7IscS4YC76A4TShVTwJrxA/s1600/eyore+snipped.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLtlhNJeqomNo0nIwKOjl03TphkP0jJSflkKOaxAFO_QAlLPZgsiqUK0eBgZbteZwataHh4ILj9yl6n60SHv9ikpkazUc9WFVSMPocAVnU-sBZ-cqQXah4H7IscS4YC76A4TShVTwJrxA/s400/eyore+snipped.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">To go on this activity date, I had to ditch my car and get into his. Another new rule: never get into a car with a strange bloke. Yes, I know it’s obvious – but he was harmless except in one respect: he sort of <i>kept me hostage</i>. This has happened to me before; it’s a little <strike>unconscious</strike> manipulative ruse employed by lonely people to stave off the inevitable moment of coming face to face with no-one but themselves. (Or, if you want me to be a halfway decent human being about it, they like you and want to spend time with you.) So they metaphorically grab you by the wrist in a vice-like grip and won’t let go. Martin’s version of this was to prolong the date till 2017; lunch got later and later, then the walk in the park, then something else, and something else, then when we finally arrived back at my car where yet another coffee was required in a local hostelry. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Guys! Here’s the thing. I have lived alone for a while now and, on the whole, I like it. The kids (when they are around for long periods) thankfully bugger off to their rooms to do time-wasting, self-removing things with Xboxes, books and computers; good mates and family get told to haul their ass off the sofa and go home when I’ve had enough of them; even that shining beacon of wonderfulness, Stella, gets thrown out after three hours! You can see the problem, can’t you? I get People-Overload Syndrome. So what am I doing internet dating, right? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But anyway. Oh my God, what did I do after that? When Martin asked me for my email address, I gave it to him because I just couldn’t dissemble quickly enough. Grrr. Why do people put me on the spot!? So, that’s another one I’m going to have to extricate myself from… elegantly. Sheesh... come on, Bette, muster up a sense of humour, woman. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Two of the other dates were pretty much the same as this <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/06/further-non-adventures-in-life-of.html">root vegetable scenario.</a> Once again I tried to give them opportunities, leads, inroads into the fascinating subject of moi, but did they take them? Did they hell! One of the men had a moment of clarity (for him) when he suddenly registered he had been talking non-stop for half an hour about everything he had done that week. Out of the blue he said ‘And what about you?’ I was so glazed over by this time that I actually replied ‘What? Oh sorry. Did you say something? I was miles away.’ No, I did! Really I did! Can you imagine?! And I got a distinct feeling of deja vu, possibly blushing after I realised what I’d done. And because he caught me unawares, all I could muster was ‘Oh, you know. Work, friends, stuff.’ I failed to mention all the other mind-numbing dates. ;) Anyway, it appears that ‘Work, friends, stuff’ was more than adequate for him because he then blithely launched into Part Two! I gave it my best polite shot – an hour in total. Sainte Bette. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Finally, one of the repeat dates (and actually I’ve never mentioned him on here because he became a friend after a minor hiccup) turned into a really pleasant soiree. We had a fun time, gossiped about nothing in particular, caught up with news about work, the kids, summer plans. I had to leave early because in order to get there on time I’d foregone the opportunity to get some petrol, and my tank was left with about two drops. And this is the 21<sup>st</sup> century in the UK in the sticks - no guarantee of petrol anywhere after 10 pm. Ridiculous. Anyway, bless him – he followed me around until I found a petrol station so that I wouldn’t be stranded in the middle of nowhere. Quel gentilhomme! And you know what… he’s good fun, articulate, smells nice, solvent, my family and my kids would like him, but why, oh why, oh why can’t I ever see myself under a duvet with him? Drat! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Stella is gob-smacked that I'm having such a run of bad luck. (She, by the way, is currently all loved up</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">, wandering round being… erm… <a href="http://www.attractyoursoulmatenow.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/couple-in-love.jpg">disgustingly unnatural.</a> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Still, keeping my fingers crossed for her...) So, in the spirit of true friendship and wanting to see me <strike>serviced</strike> happy, she’s come up with a new plan. Since I am clearly crap at choosing people, she’s going to sign into the site as me and choose suitable candidates on my behalf. Let’s face it, nobody could do a worse job than I’m doing. Watch this space… </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Oh yeah - and then there's her story from a couple weeks ago which I haven't yet reported. That's next. You won't believe it; it's one of those 'It could only happen to Stella' jobs. <i>You know what's she's like...</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-78065890524133915612011-07-06T22:53:00.000+01:002011-07-06T22:53:03.013+01:00Heeeeeeere's Johnny!<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ugh! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">He messaged me; I looked at his profile before answering and saw there was something in it that could be <i>une petite quelque chose</i> we might be able to talk about - a mutual interest, let’s call it. The picture, on the other hand, was definitely more <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D7JB68sLGY8">inclined to this.</a> I should have been alerted further, however, by his job: a psychiatric nurse. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anyway, I replied politely though succinctly so as not to overly encourage. Almost immediately he wrote back with what would have been around two pages of A4, and most of it, it has to be said, semi-drivel with hardly any punctuation, so it was totally unintelligible. I skip read it and resolved to do the decent thing and reply eventually... at some stage. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Three days later I managed to get round to it – just a few words in acknowledgement of the fact that he too is a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><i>(some kind of)</i></span> human being kind of thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Whoa! Oh dear! The man has clearly been a psychiatric nurse for far too long (if that’s the truth anyway) because as far as I can see he’s been infected by every mental disorder listed in the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diagnostic_and_Statistical_Manual_of_Mental_Disorders">DSM</a>. His message back to me was quite unnerving. He was quite miffed that I had taken so long to reply because he is already madly in love with me, is so besotted he can’t stop looking at my photos, immediately wants to 'bed' and 'shower me with pleasures unknown' and, to cap it all, I’m exactly the woman he wants to be his Mrs. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">BLOCK! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Our Father, who art in Internet Heaven, give me this day just one nice, normal, not too old, not too young, not too clever, not too stupid, solvent, educated, amusing guy, and if you could make him a minimum of four inches taller than me and prettier than Jack Nicholson in the Shining that would be a massive bonus. Amen. </span><o:p></o:p></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-28522941594732540552011-07-03T23:13:00.000+01:002011-07-03T23:13:55.561+01:00Oh, Grow Up!<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">OK. So, here’s yesterday’s date. Pleasant man all in all. Quite gentlemanly. Interesting-ish. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Merely five years older than me and yet - so very, very ancient! Looks <i>and</i> outlook. Methuselah... only without the beard. What I'm conveniently forgetting (hehe!) - and this is because I put on 'happy' music to drive to dates, hence arrive there aged just 22 - is that women have the advantage of make-up, hair dye and 21st century corsetry. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But anyway - why didn't I <i>fit</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> or <i>gel</i> with him? He was a proper bona fide grown-up. Am I really so juvenile? Don’t answer that!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And the minute he said something about <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">cuddling up on the sofa with a good DVD</span>, I was infested with scrambling ants in my pants. Stella says I've got to get over this aversion; it's not that I don't like draping myself over someone for a half hour of DVD - my kids let me do it on occasion with them - it's just not what I'd call an <i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">occupation</span></b></i>. It's the <b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">absence</span></i> </b>of occupation, and I don't think I could do it more than once a week. So when men go on about it as if it's a life-style choice, into my head pops a vision of <a href="http://www.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/7620122/2/istockphoto_7620122-tree-roots.jpg">this happening</a> through the upholstery with my already not unample derriere. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Somewhere back at the beginning of these blogs, I revealed my misanthropic tendencies, and perhaps I claimed to revel in impending decrepitude. But, ya know, I was sort of lying. Because old age brings with it the inclination to denigrate anything fresh and new and to dwell on crap like ailments (remind me to never <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/06/when-youre-deaf-keep-it-buttoned-part-2.html">discuss my teeth</a> ever again!), pontificate on how A levels were much tougher during Oliver Cromwell’s time, and recall the days when washing machines lasted for a full five hundred years before you had to call in an engineer. All of which, ultimately, makes you more of a <a href="http://www.inqbator.org.uk/blog/tabid/470/articleType/ArticleView/articleId/82/Are-you-a-radiator-or-a-drain.aspx">drain than a radiator</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">(I think) I’m fortunate that I'm frequently in the company of young people, and frankly, on the whole, I like 'em. Even when they are bitching about something, they manage to do it with some level of humour. Ooh, hang on, <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/corrigendum">corrigendum</a> - only if they are at the end of their obnoxious teens, that is. Old people merely moan, whinge, groan and drone and make me want to insert earplugs or sign up to join <a href="http://www.timesrecordnews.com/news/2009/jul/13/cloistered-order-nuns-lead-lives-of-silent/">this lot.</a> <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, when I am with <i>old</i> people i.e. some of my dates, there is a stifling atmosphere of...</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;"><b>GREY FUG</b></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">.</span></b> </span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I swear I sit there waiting for them to say something that's going to make my hackles stand to attention. Yesterday, for example, there was the mildest hint of racism, the merest smidge of homophobia, the teensiest tad of bigotry – all of which is usually more than enough to put me right off someone. Instantly. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In fairness to him, these comments were not statements of opinion, just little throwaway lines that elbowed their way in among some self-deprecatory gems, but I have these well-hidden and rather annoying antennae which ping out when I’m assessing and evaluating. And while the shagability rating (in this case, erm, let’s face it, zip, nada, none) must be considered, the other criterion is 'Could I just drop this man into my life, my family, my friends?' With those views, if they are his views, I don’t think so.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Hmm. Anyway, I'm still going to go out with him a second time (probably whilst doing some kind of activity because I'm all coffeed, drinked and dinnered out)) for the following reasons:</span><br />
<ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We had a two-way conversation.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We covered lots of topics.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">His work and hobbies were interesting, and I learned from him. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As a result of his knowledge (an autodidact by the way, left school at an early age), I found some information on the internet that I'd been looking for for ages, and that's made me grateful and almost ecstatic. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Since he insisted he pay for dinner (I couldn't be bothered to argue and let him), I'm going to have to repay the favour somehow. </span></li>
</ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Not sure all of that is enough. What do you think? Maybe he'll grow on me? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A little like, erm, mould? </span></div></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-51751718410376079262011-07-02T15:53:00.000+01:002011-07-02T15:53:33.070+01:00The Injustice!<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Treat yourself to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1AJmKkU5POA">this</a> on another page, while you are reading. :)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Yesterday evening I was in a restaurant having a bite to eat with a girlfriend when I noticed someone watching me in between vaguely attending to the conversation that was going on at his own table. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> He was r</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">oughly my age, very delicious looking (I mean, oh, sigh, from my point of view, absolutely drop-dead-let’s-not-bother-with-any-conversation gorgeous), and he kept catching my eye - ooh, get me! So, I met his gaze – briefly, tantalisingly briefly. As my friend and I were leaving, I could sense him looking at me again, so I thought ‘Sod it!’ and turned round and smiled. He smiled back, mouth, eyes and - if I'm not very much mistaken - brain. Swoon!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Bummer! Why can’t <i><u>he </u></i>be on the website? Why do I get <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/06/such-fungi.html">bloody mushrooms</a>, <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/03/knock-yourself-out.html">fat men who won't cook a measly dinner</a>, <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/03/learning-curve.html">farty old men who get lettuce stuck in their throat</a>, <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/05/quel-branleur.html">silly tele-wankers</a>, <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/06/wheres-roy-orbison-when-you-need-him.html">pathetic men whose masculinity is threatened by long words</a>, <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/06/further-non-adventures-in-life-of.html">ignorant twerps</a> etc. etc. It’s sooooo not fair! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">How’s about this for a fairy tale? Next Friday I shall go to the same place again on my own. He, totally besotted, will also go back there to see if it’s one of my regular haunts. We'll glance at one other for ten minutes, and then he’ll come over and ask me if I’d like to join him, or whether he can join me. He will, of course, be interesting, funny, strong, flirty, manly, considerate, gentlemanly, massively solvent. While I'm in the Ladies, he'll unobtrusively pay the bill, and then he’ll offer to walk me back to my car. When we get there, he’ll immediately say “When can I see you again?” And the rest, dear friends, family, followers, random people who have popped into here, will end in the words “and they <strike>snogged and shagged</strike> lived happily ever after.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There's that noise overhead again! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA87cHLhJeLqqkMNF9hw6SEbyXRUtiDliPtoGGQ5SJ4r16hJ45pibbuCQn1gYzC6zfKZ0d7LyJ_YmeOgJh_irv5uQ8603RbIHjNHN1gvdasaS05EbUPKQuiuAc6trfBG2uytHEV8VklkA/s1600/pig+flying.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA87cHLhJeLqqkMNF9hw6SEbyXRUtiDliPtoGGQ5SJ4r16hJ45pibbuCQn1gYzC6zfKZ0d7LyJ_YmeOgJh_irv5uQ8603RbIHjNHN1gvdasaS05EbUPKQuiuAc6trfBG2uytHEV8VklkA/s320/pig+flying.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Meanwhile, until the happy ending materializes, I'm off on a date tonight... </span>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-31945260758400607892011-06-27T00:51:00.010+01:002011-06-27T00:57:25.977+01:00Further Non-Adventures in the Life of a Potato's Escort<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There is something of the natural born teacher in me. It’s not that I admire academic excellence above all else, but I do love it when I see creativity, hard work, progress and pleasure in personal achievement. And so it is entirely with this in mind that I shall send the following didactic email to my last date in the hope that it will help him learn and find <strike>some absorbent and deaf sponge</strike> a partner.</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Dear Dave, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Thank you for coming to meet me today. The coffee and cakes were delicious, weren’t they? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">At the end of the date when I said it was most fascinating to meet you, I meant it. Then you asked me to get in touch to arrange to see you again, but I’m afraid I will have to decline your kind offer. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Because, my dear Dave, the reason it was most fascinating to meet you was this: I have never yet been on a date with someone <i><b>who doesn’t have the gumption to ask me my real name. </b></i>Not only did you never find that out, but when I thoughtfully provided you with little entrees into the subject, you either totally ignored them or were oblivious to them. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><u>Suggestion Number 1</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ask the person sitting opposite you what her real name is well before you get to the date stage.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">******</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The full thirty-year history of your career was most entertaining, and I enjoyed hearing about your travels. I learned a lot about customs in Dubai, Bahrein, about the gun culture in Mexico City, the favelas in Brazil – oh, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. However, you seemed to assume that in the first instance I was born; and then, in the second instance, I arrived at 50 having spent the interim in a box that was never opened. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp7HI8uBVag4JvccTHoao_MvmOvf5nHw4FiAHufK6wzPZyjvtHnnIvY40TKpubjCvRqOV1KCydPMBqmNztHMgmYhAaj6r9_NaxgtuiN7mXx9Fc6xbe6GlilS2R589DuIV-sR2hwgG4r0g/s1600/memem+potato.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp7HI8uBVag4JvccTHoao_MvmOvf5nHw4FiAHufK6wzPZyjvtHnnIvY40TKpubjCvRqOV1KCydPMBqmNztHMgmYhAaj6r9_NaxgtuiN7mXx9Fc6xbe6GlilS2R589DuIV-sR2hwgG4r0g/s400/memem+potato.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><u>Suggestion Number 2</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When you are <strike>blurbing on and on and on about</strike> describing the places you have been to, ask the person sitting opposite you if she has been there too.She may or may not have been there, but she may be able to compare and contrast with places she has been to. When you mention off shore investments, and the person says something knowledgeable about them, ask how she knows these things. You might learn something to your advantage. When the person hints at </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">having lived somewhere exotic, take the opportunity to make further enquiries.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">******</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It is not a good idea to tell the person sitting opposite you how you regularly fleece </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">your company by purposely going to the most expensive restaurants, choosing the most expensive items on the menu and claiming it all on your expenses. It doesn’t make you big, well-travelled or clever: it merely makes you cheap.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><u>Suggestion Number 3</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Examine your conscience and give some thought to karma. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">******</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When I asked you what your interests outside work were, you seemed to have very little to say for yourself. From this I can only deduce that internet dating is your hobby; and if that is all you want it to carry on being, by all means continue to behave in the way you behave. You will fill in the odd hour here`and there, but in the process you will be wasting somebody else’s time. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><u>Suggestion Number 4</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Cultivate a richer inner life and give the women of the world a well-earned break. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">******</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And on that note, I will end my message. I hope my suggestions help you find the lady of your dreams. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Yours in kindness and optimism, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Cousine Bette. </span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Friends, followers, family and all the rest of the people on this planet - please, please, please tell me why men say they want to see you again when they haven't asked you one single question, <u><i>not one</i></u>, and haven't shown the slightest bit of interest in anything about you? Beats me. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Next! </span></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-54602301025784451552011-06-24T17:01:00.000+01:002011-06-24T17:01:04.318+01:00Spud-u-like?<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Stella and I were having one of our loll-about-on-the-conservatory-sofas kind of conversations a short while ago. It seems that a guy she'd been chatting to, a fireman no less (yeah, I know... all the predictable jokes about hoses etc. yawn…), and had almost had a date with – she turned up, he didn’t – had got back in touch with her. After the non-date, he had barely apologised, and so she rapidly called it a day. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And here he and his hose were again. Not surprisingly she asked him what it was he wanted in a not over-welcoming tone, and he was clearly taken aback that she wasn’t fawning over him. He asked her if she’d been on any dates since speaking to him. She told him in a very matter-of-fact fashion that she’d been on six. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Six?” he said. “Six?” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Yes,” she replied. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Oh,” he said. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It appears that his tone was one of disappointed surprise, crest-fallen almost.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Could somebody please tell me why a man who has messed somebody about, stood someone up, and then only got in touch two weeks later imagines that a gorgeous woman like Stella would hang about waiting for his gracious call? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Sheesh! You gotta wonder about the emotional intelligence, haven’t you? <o:p></o:p></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-odMXVm5LOzXyziUNTU7Evi7NFP3WsBN4uHq3ijqktVx8sTBNH_3DeYvKXVZQFDzeJvmWmHKw4kMaOjGAZ07fr5p4yj039A_5JYYSkD2vhfndiUu9rSkaepTPVYt8zFJh7Pmhc2Pyag/s1600/fireman+potato.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-odMXVm5LOzXyziUNTU7Evi7NFP3WsBN4uHq3ijqktVx8sTBNH_3DeYvKXVZQFDzeJvmWmHKw4kMaOjGAZ07fr5p4yj039A_5JYYSkD2vhfndiUu9rSkaepTPVYt8zFJh7Pmhc2Pyag/s400/fireman+potato.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-75611347506511356872011-06-23T15:48:00.000+01:002011-06-23T15:48:15.989+01:00Such a Fungi!<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Well, looking on the bright side – <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-set-all-set.html">he turned up.</a> As for the rest, I don’t think so. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Don't get me wrong - he was a nice person, but I just don't want to be the responsible adult all the time. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It all seems to be a matter of extremes where I’m concerned. One minute it all goes pear-shaped with someone who is afraid of long words and the odd metaphor, the next minute I’m in the presence of a practically Nobel Prize winning super-brainy scientist, but nevertheless someone who is remarkably childlike. And, what is worse, someone who has yet to learn that, according to internet dating etiquette, you don’t immediately ask if your date wants to see you again: you <i>go home</i> and write a <i>message</i>. Like <i>normal</i> people.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And so it is that I find myself having said yes to another date that I absolutely don’t want to go on. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><b>Oops!</b></span> It’s not as if I haven’t said no before on numerous occasions, this case being <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/04/cauchemar-kate-middleton-you-have-been.html">the most notable</a>, but he was so diffident and yet puppy-dog eager that I couldn’t find the euphemisms to convey the no word. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anyway, he wasn't for me for a number of reasons. I could overlook the fact that he was six years younger; I could overlook that he had young children (been there, done that); but I couldn't overlook that each time I gazed into his eyes this is what I saw. Only fatter, rounder and greyer, and just a few inches short of seven foot tall. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhoWiSI3bjwtIxQCXFts7WoDOikOTKMU1e-kw6Z8Ujg2IXpG0VgI6HzYxA5ys3Kk_gB4sf6G8n4DZbiHhy3lAOhanZROJLjoMqQ7uwjuneZStQJ3iEnYe99Wc-CxCnmGw04jtZocOaZcQ/s1600/mushroom+man.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhoWiSI3bjwtIxQCXFts7WoDOikOTKMU1e-kw6Z8Ujg2IXpG0VgI6HzYxA5ys3Kk_gB4sf6G8n4DZbiHhy3lAOhanZROJLjoMqQ7uwjuneZStQJ3iEnYe99Wc-CxCnmGw04jtZocOaZcQ/s320/mushroom+man.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This is because when I was at uni I shared a flat in a hall of residence with two microbiologists. We called them Mr and Mrs Mushroom; they lived in a room in which the curtains were never opened and from which emanated pungent aromas of the fungal kind. Other than going to lectures, Mr and Mrs hardly ever emerged and seemed to do everything else that might have meant coming into contact with other people (e.g. cooking in the communal kitchen) in the dead of night. But quite the most fascinating thing about them was the noise they made. The rest of the flat sharers - six of us - would pile up on the bed of Mr and Mrs Mushroom’s next-door neighbour (should you ever come across this blog… Hi Aled! Did you ever resolve your sheep issues?), put glasses to the wall and try to figure out what exactly was going on. Weeeeeell… we were <s>nosy and stupid</s> young, naïve… Always willing <s>to take the mick</s> to learn. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: Mia-ooooooow...<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Woof! Woof! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: Mia-ooooooow...<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Woof! Woof! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: Miiiiii-aaaaaaia–ooooooooooooooow. Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Woof. Sniffle. Woof, woof. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And so on and so forth, all resulting in massive crashing about and then rhythmic pounding noises which we assumed was them at it, having completed the, ahem, imaginative foreplay. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ah, halcyon days.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I wonder if I can bring myself to do it? Hang on… Miii-aaa-ooooow… Purrrrrrr... Mi-a-oow. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Nah, not a Cousine Bette kind of scenario really, is it? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Oh bugger! I do soooo hope he finds someone more interesting – and quick! Oh, wait a minute! Stella has three pussies... </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">What do you think? <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/05/what-jolly-good-wheeze.html">A bit of recycling again?</a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-82498534588118591492011-06-21T23:29:00.003+01:002011-06-22T00:44:06.920+01:00New Set, All Set!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Woop! Woop! No more <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/06/when-youre-deaf-keep-it-buttoned-part-2.html">Post Traumatic Dental Disorder.</a></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Look what I've got! </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-hnNLsrivLyNstNbQg4VG3ri5B-RQsm0VzIigtxtJODqZxmAQ45Yy26e8otDci6etQQR3sVHoG5J3yTQR_qo0r2Kvwn3WBu0boQLAS9DSEjHOq0cjWNuGYDIDnym876W5RleEqvUCsOg/s1600/new+teeth.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-hnNLsrivLyNstNbQg4VG3ri5B-RQsm0VzIigtxtJODqZxmAQ45Yy26e8otDci6etQQR3sVHoG5J3yTQR_qo0r2Kvwn3WBu0boQLAS9DSEjHOq0cjWNuGYDIDnym876W5RleEqvUCsOg/s320/new+teeth.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Finally, the bridge has arrived and been installed. My teeth feel all smooth and porcelainy and lovely. Goodbye Abe! Which is very handy for tomorrow's date with the tall chap. I'm feeling so perky that I may just have to initiate some snogging. I'll bring one of <a href="http://www.eurekadirect.co.uk/companies/Eureka/department/KICKPL.jpg">these</a> just in case. ;) </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">You know what - well, I'll tell ya. Here <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sPFwBhH53zs&feature=related">you go. </a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And here's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uMQz-CnwTWM">a little gift for someone</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bsE7JBrXgow">someone else. </a></span></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-88749212174847588782011-06-19T17:55:00.000+01:002011-06-19T17:55:41.053+01:00The 'Stella Is An Even Bigger Prat Than I Am' Story<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Stella was having what you might call a stressy day. Her daughter’s car had packed up, so Stella was driving her around hither and yon, having completely gotten out of the habit of being chauffeur. At the same time she had her own To Do List to accomplish. On top of this she has several major deadlines coming up, personal and professional, which involve loads of work and organisation. And she’s also about to move, so her place is stacked to the roof with packing cartons. She's a busy woman. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anyway, her mobile rang. She was going to ignore it, too much to do, but quickly glanced at who was calling - Paul. Oh Paul! A potential date with whom she’d been in serious-ish, normal cyber conversation for a few evenings, chat that had culminated in a bit of flirty banter a couple of nights ago during which he said he’d get in touch by phone to arrange a date. They hadn’t talked the evening before because he’d been at his friend’s stag do. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: Hi Paul.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Hi Stella. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: Nice to hear from you. Have you recovered? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Er? What? Yes, I suppose I have. Are you busy or can we have a chat? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: Well, I am busy, but <i>for you</i>, I can always make myself very, very unbusy. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">(I can almost hear that cheeky, sexy voice she puts on…)</span> What exactly do you have in mind, hun? <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">(I know, I know – <i>hun</i> – I’ll have to speak to her about that…) </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: We need to talk about a time.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: Hehe! For you - any time! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Er… OK. Thank you. When would be convenient? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That depends on what you want to do, where you want to do it and how much time it might take. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Sorry? I want to come round to your place, of course. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: Oh now, hey! I think you may be getting a little ahead of yourself there, don’t you? I’m not saying it’s completely out of the question, maybe, one day, but for the first time it’s not something I’d planned on. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: What? There’s got to be a first time. I can understand your not wanting to do it, but the sooner we start the better. You don’t have to put yourself out - tidy and clean will do. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: Oh dear. I think you have misunderstood me entirely. I’m not that kind of woman. I’d love to go for a coffee with you or maybe even dinner, but anything else at the moment is out of the question. Really. I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Stella, do you know who you are talking to? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Her</span>: Yes, of course I do. Paul. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Yes, Paul. Paul Barrington? The lettings agent? I’ve got some new tenants I need to show round… <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Paul Barrington. The lettings agent. Last time she’d seen him at the agency he’d had a cold and was busy snotting it up into a tissue. 65 if he’s a day, 17 stone if he’s a pound. Probably never been on an internet dating website in his life. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">PMSL! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Just how many Pauls does she have in that smart phone of hers? </span><o:p></o:p></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-32961868451629270442011-06-18T17:35:00.000+01:002011-06-18T17:35:39.142+01:00Where's Roy Orbison When You Need Him?<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1bUexXdKThQ">Here!</a> Go on, open it on another page - you know you want to! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Have you missed me? Time to face facts! This is sooooo never going to happen - a shag or owt else by the look of it. But the thing is – I’ve promised myself I’m going to keep writing this blog until it does happen, so I simply have to persevere. We could be here some time. folks! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I can’t wait to tell you what the deal-breaker with Mike was. Are you ready for it?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Holding your breath? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Well, I’ll tell you. It was the fact that I use long words sometimes. Can you believe it? I mean – big deal! I also use very short words (mainly of the s**t, c**p, poo, f**k variety – apologies to anyone who hasn’t heard those words before: I only ever use them if I drop something on my foot – honest!) I think Mike also misunderstood some of the, ahem, ‘poetry’ in my soul. I guess it might be frightening; and by poetry I mean anything that is not spelt out word by word, syllable by syllable, letter by letter. It is probably a ‘man’ thing: they are such simple creatures at heart. All of them. Every single last one. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now I know I said this might turn out to be a very philosophical post; I thought I was going to <s>drone on about</s> examine <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">La Condition Humaine</i>, loneliness and what prevents us from taking risks. But happily for you, my dear friends, family and followers - I’ve rallied as usual. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am back on the website and busy sorting. So far, four potentials, of which one is a super brainy giant, and <strike>hundreds of thousands of</strike> many total idiots. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">PS I have had another date in between, but I can’t possibly tell you a thing about him because - you’ll never guess what – he sussed my nom de plume about two weeks ago. I tell you what – I nearly passed out when he sent me a one line email with just my name and a question mark. I was like this<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYpY7d1eGAYas_gwyJvJoa_NfartcbTSywcft8w1MSFyUquaVUHLc6mDwLGXTjFUOTnDgFR-IEitMLk5YAteKYvahzCIs_X_wH3VvuFTDQc-MSRPVv2baj5a_yvDjSC4iexAuErjo-ls/s1600/cousin+bette+scream+with+hair+colour.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYpY7d1eGAYas_gwyJvJoa_NfartcbTSywcft8w1MSFyUquaVUHLc6mDwLGXTjFUOTnDgFR-IEitMLk5YAteKYvahzCIs_X_wH3VvuFTDQc-MSRPVv2baj5a_yvDjSC4iexAuErjo-ls/s320/cousin+bette+scream+with+hair+colour.jpg" width="227" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br />
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</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">for about fifteen minutes. I’m fairly sure he hasn’t read any of these blogs, otherwise why would he still have come on that date? And he didn’t mention the blogs on the date itself. So anyway… erm, he’s a very nice guy. That’s just in case, like. And I like him. We’ll keep it to that, shall we? ;) </span></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-43423624593905250242011-06-14T23:08:00.000+01:002011-06-14T23:08:55.474+01:00You Never Do Stop Learning<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Let me clarify the Mike situation. At first it seemed as if we were going to have another date. Then it didn’t. Then it did. Then it didn’t. Then – hang on – which day of the week are we now? There may very well be some more did and didn’ts in there. We appear to have some kind of weird hiccup going on in the emails/texts between us and frankly I haven’t got a clue what is going on. Therefore, let us just put that to the side at the moment. One way or another it will be resolved, and you shall be the first to know. Honest! And possibly in a gigantic philosophical post, so get the coffee, biscuits and tissues ready… <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Suffice to say – <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/06/when-youre-deaf-keep-it-buttoned-part-2.html">the bridge fiasco </a> in itself did not contribute to the hiccup. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But in the meantime, I have had an epiphany and I don’t know why it has taken me so long to work this out: I must be (almost) irredeemably thick. I’ve always thought that the cougar chasers’ line of ‘Age is just a number’ was a six foot high heap of horse manure, whether as a chat up line or a long term proposition. After all, who wants to be forced into giving her partner history lessons on who <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zIy1rOb8EYU">David Cassidy</a> was? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But take away some of what makes us human - reason, intelligence, society – and reduce two people to two animals, <a href="http://dickpetrie.com/wolfcubs.jpg">seeking one another's warmth</a>, or huddled together against the barren, piercing cold of winter, and age does indeed become just a number. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This has nothing to do with Mike, by the way; he’s older than I am. And yet it does. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That’s all I have to say on the subject. For now. I think. </span><o:p></o:p></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-8839672259591325552011-06-12T21:42:00.003+01:002011-06-12T21:43:46.818+01:00When You're Deaf, Keep It Buttoned Part 2<div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It started so very well. Mike and I met at our designated place. He looked exactly as I'd remembered him all four days ago - not lip-licking scrummy, but something kind of appealing around the eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">What I haven’t told you is that what <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/06/when-youre-deaf-keep-it-buttoned.html">I'd referred to minimalistically as a temporary crown </a>was, in fact, a temporary bridge, an appliance made necessary by my darling children donkeys' years ago when I was still </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">suffering from a three year bout of chronic Lovely Mushy Mummy Syndrome. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I’d had two of the <strike>annoying little buggers</strike> dear sweet things on my knees, one in front of the other, and was jigging them up and down on my lap whilst singing them some dorky song. A word of caution - never stimulate a male of any age in any way – it will all end in tears. As it did in my case. The child in the front got a bit giddy, slammed his head into the kid at the back who slammed his head into my teeth – the front one of which went flying to the back of my throat. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The only thing that could be done was to file down the teeth on either side, vampire style, to accommodate a bridge.</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now it just so happened that a few days before the date with Mike, I'd severely chipped said bridge whilst <s>opening a beer bottle at a Hell's Angels rally in Brighton</s>. Oops, sorry! Unreliable narrator moment there! Where was I? …whilst trying to disengage the vacuum packaging from a halogen light bulb. (Spit, grumble, mumble, moronic designers...) The bridge had to be replaced before it crumbled. The dentist said it would be <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><b>TWO WEEKS</b></span> before the cruddy temporary plac contraption could be exchanged for my brand new set of gleaming porcelain gnashers. Such is the state of dentistry in the UK: you give them <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">hundreds of thousands of pounds</span></b> for their craptastic service, they inform you 'two weeks minimum' without so much as apologising that you’re going to resemble <a href="http://gal.darkervision.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/pp2e_teeth.thumbnail.jpg">Abraham Lincoln</a> for the next fourteen days.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When Mike had pushed for an early date and I’d said I’d rather not because of the crown, I thought the white lie would be irrelevant </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">because he wouldn’t see me </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">anyway. But the Abe look might be harder to disguise...</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We caught up on the week over starters. He didn’t seem to be peering at my mouth as I fluttered my eyelashes in a feeble attempt to look alluring. He had, after all, said he needed a correction to his laser eye treatment. For the main course I’d chosen some fancy chicken salad. What I hadn’t banked on was that the chef also needed some laser eye correction. Don’t ask me how it happened – I have no idea. I’d already eaten about three quarters of the salad, chewing with my molars mainly, when I chomped into what was supposed to be chicken breast; but it was a bone. It dislodged the bridge. I put my hand over my mouth in a sort of ‘I'm listening intently to everything you're saying’ kind of way, made captivated (sic) eyes at him as he spoke, all the while surreptitiously trying to put the bridge back in place with my tongue. But the more I fiddled with it, the looser it became until finally the bloody, sodding, shitty piece of British-made rubbish slid off altogether. <o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In the meantime, Mike, who’d been telling me about his time in the Falklands, asked me whether I remembered where I was when I heard the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ARA_General_Belgrano">Belgrano</a> had sunk – the usual stuff of second dates, I should imagine. Well, I couldn’t answer, could I? Not without revealing my predicament. He asked me again. I just grinned, closed-mouth, going “Mm. Hmm”. (I'm killing myself laughing here - there's just something gloriously absurd about the juxtaposition of discussing the Belgrano and my teeth falling out - go figure!) <o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Belgrano?” he said. “You <i>do</i> remember the <i>Belgrano</i>, don’t you? <o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Me still grinning like the village idiot after a three week bender. <o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Are you all right?" he asked finally. <o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Aw, bugger and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">th</span>od it! I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">th</span>tood up, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">th</span>aid “Ek<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">th</span>cu<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">th</span>e me for a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">th</span>econd” and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">th</span>rode off to the Ladie<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">th</span> to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">th</span>ee whether <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">th</span>omething could be <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">th</span>alvaged from thi<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">th</span> horrendou<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">th</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">th</span>ituation. <o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPi-enoJQg2ABkr1zUrlMW9s2WbV7o27-u6C90sIMg0lmMvW7PXKepVbOf3L4HvP-AoLc2KNcjqt71YafM5lXekZPhom2i-RYhTmrzmuk3veR2jjwgWSTvZ6P1bsac5YUGC3NH73NRQGM/s1600/toothless+cousin+bette.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPi-enoJQg2ABkr1zUrlMW9s2WbV7o27-u6C90sIMg0lmMvW7PXKepVbOf3L4HvP-AoLc2KNcjqt71YafM5lXekZPhom2i-RYhTmrzmuk3veR2jjwgWSTvZ6P1bsac5YUGC3NH73NRQGM/s320/toothless+cousin+bette.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Once in the loo, I managed to stick the bridge back on the stumps. Of course - you won’t be surprised - not before another of the female diners walked in and caught me, toothless, rinsing it under the tap. <o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, all in all, yeah. A brill evening. Thanks for asking. </span></div></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-1726078381052882642011-06-11T03:49:00.009+01:002011-06-12T14:30:30.158+01:00When You're Deaf, Keep It Buttoned<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I knew it. I knew it! I shouldn’t have accepted the second date with Mike. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For fff’s sake. It’s awful, even nightmarish, I tell you. But, you know, I just can’t stop laughing about it – really I can't - eternal gratitude to Le bon Dieu and Monsieur Ionesco for a sense of the absurd. My latest episode may very well haunt me until my dying day - on a par with one of the other colossal faux pas in the Life and Times of a Utter Twerp. Lisez et pleurez. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The previous one went a little like this. I was straight out of l’universite and attending an all day interview for the job of my dreams. It was one of those graduate milk-round situations where they invited the 25 short-listed candidates for the third stage. The idea was that each person would be grilled by members of various departments – a bit like a conveyor belt. I was the fifth from the end to go through the process. By the time I’d arrived back at the conference room, twenty of the others were already sitting at a table eating sandwiches and drinking coffee. I came in rather <s>smug </s>chuffed with how things had gone, sat down ready to stuff ma bouche, and caught the tail end of the conversation. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Oh the folly and the (moronic) confidence of youth! It must have been those giant shoulder pads that did it; <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIEfcp76csOQDgtfiEERznD1jCeTijl8H2MrqdjS_AkBOkFsf5SJzrqn5urFQ8IIbvnBNu1CpNSjFr5KAMdD6oMDBRpIWjf19afxONGzSAhWY9PrBaIKCOHrMJsmKrc9iIYMrXyctjZMg/s1600/Dynasty-Dynasty-TV-Series-014.jpg">Alexis Carrington</a> has a lot to answer for. Was there anything I didn’t know about in those days? No. Was there anything I wasn’t prepared to share my opinion about? No. I’m clenching my buttocks at the recollection. Is my face bright purple? Oy vay iz mir. Mega vay. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Come on, CB, tell ‘em. Be <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">authentic</span></i>. Share and reveal your mind-boggling pratitude. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For some inexplicable reason, the crowd seemed to be having a go at the works of Picasso. I thought they were all Philistines and launched in to defend him, saying the man was an unparalleled genius - oh family, friends and followers, I can barely go on – my throat’s constricting; that he was perhaps misunderstood, that… oh well, never mind. I’m feeling a tad nauseous again. I went on. And on. In all this time, I only used pronouns i.e. he, him, his. What I hadn’t noticed was that everyone, candidates and interviewers alike, were gawping at me as if I’d been released from Bedlam way before the medication had kicked in. Blithely I spewed forth, convinced they’d all be staggered by my knowledge and reasoning. And of course, I’d be the one to get the job. Of course! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Well, I’ll tell you that I didn’t get the job. And I’ll tell you pourquoi, but before I do so, this is the lesson that I learnt. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-size: large;">KEEP YOUR TRAP SHUT WHEN YOU HAVEN’T GOT THE VAGUEST IDEA OF WHAT’S GOING ON! AND LISTEN! </span>Oh - and always make sure you’ve made good use of the Q tips before you leave the house. (Actually, let’s face it – I never did learn any of those lessons. Not in their entirety, like.) <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It was only beaucoup plus tard, when my brain caught up with my gallivanting gob, that it finally dawned on me they hadn’t been discussing Picasso at all. No, it was someone completely different. I had, in fact, spent ten minutes championing and extolling the virtues of Jean-Bedel <b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">Bokassa</span></i></b>, head of the Central African Republic from about 1966 to 1979, a dictator who massacred men, women and children. Yes, a mass murderer and apparently, ooh - doncha just lerve him - my hero. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ground. Take my feet first and suck the rest in quick. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">You can read about my sweetheart <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean-B%C3%A9del_Bokassa">here</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anyway, when Mike asked whether I wanted that second date for dinner a deux, I said that I’d love to... anytime next week. “Next week?” he said, as if I’d just cancelled the next ten year's worth of Grand Prix. “Can’t you make it any sooner?” Well I could, in theory, but I didn’t want to. Do you remember the teensie weensie microscopic white lie I told <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/03/you-wont-find-another-fool-like-me-babe.html">here</a>? Well, it was another of those situations. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This time, however, I thought I’d come clean. After all, look where the last one got me, bloody nowhere. I told him I’d rather not because I was having a temporary crown fitted and wouldn't be at my usual spectacularly pulchritudinous best. The man’s a grown-up (have I already mentioned that?); he said “Not to worry. You can order semolina and drink it through a straw. Come anyway. Please.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I noticed his profile didn’t use the oft quoted knicker-wettingly hilarious line ‘I have all my own teeth’, so I guess he understood. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anyway, put like that, dear followers, how could I refuse? </span><o:p></o:p></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-30937460528160313132011-06-09T00:11:00.000+01:002011-06-09T00:11:11.331+01:00Meanwhile Back at the Ranch...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I've made a date with one of the other three. We spoke on the phone for about an hour. He's really entertaining and a good conversationalist. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And let me tell you why I <i>shall</i> be going on a date with him. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Never in a million years would I ever entertain a relationship with him: he is just not my type. Hence, I am not being remotely <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">'unfaithful'</span>. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I'm so glad. So very, very glad. I shan't be visiting the convent for a quick confession after all. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But wait, er, um, oh no! There's something wrong with this too! Is it morally right to go on a date anyway, thereby giving someone else a moment of hope and also wasting their time, even if you know absolutely nothing is going to come of it? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Mon Dieu, c'est vraiment trop difficile! </span>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-79738920704764735882011-06-07T18:08:00.000+01:002011-06-07T18:08:40.474+01:00Au secours! TK Maxx Syndrome Revisited<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Oh, bugger! Oh, sod it! It's a calamity, I tell you.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now what the hell am I going to do?</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">You know when I told you about my <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/06/shopping-at-tk-maxx.html">lovely evening gown</a>... I wasn't exactly telling you the whole truth; I was being a bit of an, ahem, <i>unreliable narrator</i>... Qui? Moi? Yes, me. You may have noticed that I sometimes embellish just a weansie bit; well, this time I pared. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It would appear that decent, pleasant men are like buses - you stand there for ages getting wet, cold, windblown, with your mascara dribbling down your face as you stare hopelessly into the distance, and then, lo and behold, several all at the same time.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Or, indeed, men are not only like buses - also very much like TK Maxx garments. The evening dress was part of a collection. For the first time ever in my entire life, what I dropped in the trolley actually fitted and looked good. Some of it was a tad too young for me, but it appears I can get away with it, still, even <strike>at my advanced age</strike> in my decrepitude. Tight white jeans? Sure! Why not? From the back they look fantastic. Summer floral frock - a bit too girlie for me - but I can manage it if I fake-tan my legs. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So. What am I now expected to do with this?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The nice date I mentioned last week turned out to be a very nice date. Let's call him Mike. Lovely. I laid my cards on the table - told him about the Warts, the <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-should-have-said-no.html">Rasta pubes</a>, the <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/05/plucked-off.html">Chicken pubes</a>, the Whiskers, the Lower Abdominal Disaster, the <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/03/knock-yourself-out.html">Saggy Boobs</a> (which perhaps he had clocked anyway - the man's not picky. Thank you, God!), and how often the fire alarm goes off in my house because <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/06/whhooaahh-hold-your-fondue-set.html">I AM NOT INTERESTED IN COOKING</a></span> (have I perhaps mentioned that before? Let me reiterate -<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><b> I DO NOT WANT TO BE A HOSTESS!</b></span>)</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Erm, what else - oh yes, the fact that I'm like a self-inflating dinghy - one minute everything around me looks neat and tidy, the next minute me and all my rubbish appear to have filled the room to the cornices. If you're wondering why I feel the need to divulge this minor peccadillo of mine, it's because as far as ex forces people are concerned, their reaction to this news is an extremely accurate measure of the calibre of their interest and devotion. When they've spent 20 odd years cramming their life into a kitbag, the thought of a 5'6'' exploding puffball is enough to give most of them a nervous breakdown and a debilitating outbreak of hives.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I gave him a gazillion chances to wiggle out of that second date, but no - he was having none of it. He's already pulled his profile. Gulp! He thinks I am the bee's knees and the cat's pyjamas. Which, of course, I am. But only to those people who have loved me since childhood and have learned to live with my 'little <strike>disgusting</strike> endearing ways'. I wish us both luck, but principally him. But you know, looking on the bright side, if he's coped with the horrors of war and chucking himself out of aeroplanes, he'll probably cope with me. Maybe. Perhaps. For a second date at least.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But ha! Meanwhile back at the ranch...What did I do last week thinking that probably (as usual) nothing would come of this? Yes, I booked in a few more, just in case. Because I'm not getting any younger and Stella was right about the bloody moustache - it grows back with a vengeance and spreads. Fortunately, Mike did say that he'd had his eyes lasered 15 years ago, and they now needed some correction. So, phew - a reprieve - safe there for a while, visually if not physically! Hmm... I'll have to remember what 'coy' looks like if, ahem, the need arises before the next threading.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anyway, now I've got several moral dilemmas. I've always hated choice; it makes me giddy. There are three other gentlemen in my trolley. (Mike wasn't among them - he'd already been hanging in my wardrobe for over two weeks before I met him.) And so far, they are all extremely gorgealicious, in very different ways, and dates were lined up, and actually I'd really like to meet them all, if only because they sound like fab, groovy people. But Mike has pulled his profile - he's a strictly one at a time kind of person. And that is what I am too, really, fundamentally, deep down, at the core, beneath the several layers of wanting to meet the other people anyway...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And morally, it seems to me, I am obliged to go and meet them all - don't you think? To quote Mammy from Gone with the Wind "It ain't fittin'. It just ain't fittin'" to make and agreement and renege on it.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And here is the bizarre thing that I am almost absolutely positively certain that I'm not sure that I'm wrong about: Mike is seriously solid, safe and capable, one day, of <i>cherishing</i> a misanthropic flake like me. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Oh, sod it. Bugger! Sod it! Poo poo!</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">PS Something is going horrendously askew here. I thought the purpose of writing this blog was to chronicle the journey of my <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/02/what-you-she-said-is-shag.html">getting a shag </a> to improve my complexion. What's with all this 'cherishing' nonsense? Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! Somebody help me. I need advice or a slap or <i>something</i>. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">PPS And breathe... It's only a second date, you silly bint. Mike'll get instantly disillusioned and the other three won't turn up. Not long till I'm back in the comfort zone then. ;)</span>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-67919629051734049062011-06-06T00:41:00.000+01:002011-06-06T00:41:20.219+01:00Whhooaahh! Hold your fondue set!<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, this person had been pursuing me for some time – I knew it was hopeless though - nothing in his profile had given me any cause to salivate - and I hadn’t given him any encouragement whatsoever. He was five years older, so within my age range, and sounded as if he wasn’t strapped for cash, possibly even a little plummy. Polite refusals hadn't worked - he’d got a bee in his bonnet (me) and wasn't going to give in. Finally, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">essentially to convince him, I agreed to a phone call.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: You sound quite intelligent from your profile.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Me</span>: Thank you. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Do you like cooking? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Me</span></span>: No, my profile quite clearly states I do not like cooking. I dreamt up healthy, nourishing meals -- always from scratch -- for 25 years on a daily basis, and it no longer gives me any thrills. On the other hand, I enjoy eating. And I enjoy feeding. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: What does that mean? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Me</span>: It means I enjoy people coming to my house to eat. I look in the cupboards and fridge, see what’s available, throw things together, put whatever emerges down in front of them and tell them to tuck in. I don’t like following recipes.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Hmm. Well, maybe that won’t be a problem because I can cook. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> But</span>, you do cook, don’t you? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Me</span>: Yes, I do. But I would always rather be the sous chef these days. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: And you seem to have many interests, so presumably you can hold your own in most situations. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Me</span>: On the whole, I don’t have many problems. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Hmm. Yes, I suspect you are more intelligent than me. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Me</span>: I really don’t know and can’t say. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Yes, I think you are. <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #c27ba0;">Pauses as if in thought.</span></i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think you’d probably make a very good hostess. You’d be able to maintain conversations. And talk to people on any topic, I should think. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Eh? Poor deluded man – how the hell did he work <i><b>that </b></i>out? The older I get, I’ve discovered, the less I know about anything whatsoever. Huge wads of stuff completely passed me by while I was being a mother of young children; I expect there was the odd war or something. Did <i>anything</i> happen in the early 90s that didn't involve poo or Lego? Must google! On the plus side, I can quote <a href="http://www.funnyjunk.com/funny_pictures/5038/Cat+In+The+Hat+Poem/">Cat in the Hat </a>verbatim - not sure that would be of any use to anyone these days, particularly in a dinner party setting. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But – hey there! <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Wait a minute!</span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><b>Whhhhhooooooaaaaaaahhhhhhhh! </b></span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A very good hostess? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That nearly passed me by. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">A very good hostess? </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, the person he is looking for must be a <i><b>very good hostess</b></i>. For his dinner parties. For his friends, colleagues, acquaintances – whoever. Don your pinny and make sure everybody’s glass is full.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNaMEfjB-BtZluTdvsBAvmHBO97_pASYqcda-p8_eM4pj-w9g3be-okJyjWBsYmCsfxnRhpbXPlmDx9QNZt6KSmKCc1lrQ-wS0nNNOFV8VE23GfxY1oqKyim6mHJkUcbrDAX_P3zQHLlo/s1600/johny+craddock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNaMEfjB-BtZluTdvsBAvmHBO97_pASYqcda-p8_eM4pj-w9g3be-okJyjWBsYmCsfxnRhpbXPlmDx9QNZt6KSmKCc1lrQ-wS0nNNOFV8VE23GfxY1oqKyim6mHJkUcbrDAX_P3zQHLlo/s400/johny+craddock.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">FFFs! This is not in my master plan! Do I want <i>that </i>to be on my <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Bucket_List">Bucket List</a>? And on my death bed, seconds away from the final croak, surrounded by my super family, friends and followers,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>do I want to look back and leave them with nothing but this to ponder for the rest of their lives, ‘Oh yes, my dears, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8YGXsw3XK9I&feature=related">je ne regrette rien</a>. I was, after all, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i><u>a very good hostess</u></i></span>.’<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I think not! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Is it an age thing I wonder? I later asked a very lovely friend who's forty and also single what his requirements were as far as a relationship was now concerned. It took him precisely two seconds to reply. "Fun," he said. From being a pleasant looking kind of guy he miraculously transformed himself into the most gorgeous male I'd ever laid eyes on.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Which makes me wonder... I am looking at the wrong age group altogether? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2pOFIDUEzk&feature=related">Is this really me? </a>And where’s the <a href="http://www.liquidice.co.uk/food/chipsngravy.html">flippin' gravy?</a>!?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Next! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">*wanders off mumbling and grumbling ‘A hostess... Meh! Ridiculous… <a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/a/ac/Granny-Clampett.jpg">Granny Clampett</a>, maybe… <a href="http://images.fanpop.com/images/image_uploads/jessica-rabbit-childhood-memories-216194_301_520.jpg">Jessica Rabbit</a>, maybe…* </span><o:p></o:p></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-85039735421365145492011-06-05T04:27:00.009+01:002011-06-12T14:32:16.254+01:00Shopping at TK Maxx<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">One of the drawbacks of internet dating websites is that it’s a bit like schlepping round <a href="http://www.tkmaxx.com/">TK Maxx</a>; you have to have an eagle eye, plenty of time and oodles, bundles, bucketsful of stamina and massive renewable dollops of crazy optimism. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In TK Maxx you're only allowed six items in the changing room. Unfortunately, because the garments are sourced from all over the world, the sizes are also all over the place. What can be a 12 in Marks and Spencer can just as easily be a size 20 or an 8 in TK Maxx. The shop also stocks some pretty outrageous styles (read – prototypes that never got as far as the production line because they were fundamentally flawed in the design), and you never know what may or may not work. Hence, you simply have to try on all those sodding bits of horrendous schmatta to find the jewel in the crown... Erm, OK, that doesn't quite work, but it <i><b>is</b></i> the middle of night, guys! Give me a break! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So you take a trolley and meander through the aisles, dropping all manner of highly unlikely or dodgy stuff into it in the (deluded) hope that one measly thing might look tolerably OK, might fit and not have split hems or a broken zip, could co-ordinate with something you've already got; or that the ridiculous frill will, in fact, provide the unexpected WOW factor. (Does this sound familiar, dear fellow internet daters? Bear with me.) <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">On this occasion, I get to the fitting room, take out the permitted number of garments and begin the laborious (not to mention often depressing) process of choosing. In thirty minutes that seem like three hours, of the six items I’ve hoiked on and off, one is very, <i>very</i> fabulous. Almost (mildly) uberfabulous - mustn't get excited... Maybe not gorgeous in itself, but seems comfortable, makes me feel great, sends a <i>frisson</i> about <i>toutes les possibilites</i>, gives me a spring in my step and a little wiggle in my ample hips. Ooh, I’m younger already! Only problem - when will I ever wear it? There may be an event coming up shortly, but maybe not. It’s not of my usual world, considering my loathing of the stuff that goes with it i.e. high heeled shoes and standing up straight, but I’ve bought it anyway… What do you think? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_G-PNAUe5cI4UNlNLV_-WDxdAgBLVwTic_XTz3S2uerXJajlgFl0IN-6SeooYXzvFx_hlx7gzoBp1-a3uq0WXTur6LXnb6bAGOVz2ij2_9VyXFDUlyZR74-DvojhL-Zg7FZWI3BdfkU4/s1600/cousin+bett+in+ballgown+finished.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_G-PNAUe5cI4UNlNLV_-WDxdAgBLVwTic_XTz3S2uerXJajlgFl0IN-6SeooYXzvFx_hlx7gzoBp1-a3uq0WXTur6LXnb6bAGOVz2ij2_9VyXFDUlyZR74-DvojhL-Zg7FZWI3BdfkU4/s320/cousin+bett+in+ballgown+finished.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So it’s going to hang in the wardrobe where I’ll look at it from time to time. Of course, I’d like to wear it as soon as I possibly can, but for the moment I’ll have to content myself with all the other tired old rubbish in my drawers. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Tu parles francais? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://forum.wordreference.com/showthread.php?t=4177">On verra. </a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">;) </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And what did Stella say? I'll tell you what she said. She said that I need look no further than directly above my head. Mon dieu! Qu'est-ce que c'est? C'est rose, c'est grand, c'est quelque chose <a href="http://www.wordreference.com/enfr/to%20grunt">qui grogne.</a> Meh! She can be such a killjoy! I bet you didn't know she can speak French too, did you? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A little something for <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KfoH50ihmlY">Jody. </a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-50208403530332068592011-06-01T01:35:00.006+01:002011-06-12T14:34:19.655+01:00Scum And Other Animals<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">I really don’t want to tell you this story because I’d prefer to keep this blog light and frothy, tell you stories about my warts, Rasta pubes or musings on the benefits of burkhas. Fun and drivel. Sadly, however, sometimes it just can’t be. Those of you who have never had to endure some of the horrors of meeting people via the internet, probably can’t imagine that this stuff happens to ‘normal’ people, probably can’t imagine how you’d react. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">Stella turned up yesterday, hot-cross-bun-less and not wearing make-up. Something was clearly up. She dropped herself onto the conservatory sofa and grunted. Better make a cup of tea, I thought. I tiptoed about the kitchen waiting for her to speak. Nothing. I made the cup of tea and placed it in front of her. Nothing. Eventually, since the softly, softly approach was getting me nowhere, I ventured "What’s up?" </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">"Men," she said. "Bloody men." </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">Oh that! Why didn’t you say so in the first place? </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">"What about them?" </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">"You’ll never believe what happened to me yesterday." </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">I thought "I expect I will". Best just to let her get it out of her system. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">"I mean – what is it about me?" she said. "What the hell am I doing wrong? I’m straight-forward, fun, relatively intelligent, honest, hard-working. I scrub up well, know how to behave in all walks of life. And yet..." </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">"And yet what?" I said. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">"Last night, I let somebody IM me again," she said. "Actually, I just wanted a chat, and I didn’t want to call you coz you said you were going to have an early night.</span></span> I was wide awake, I’d been working on the computer and I was feeling sort of lonely."</div><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US"></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">Ah, I could see where this was going.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">She went on. "I’m not saying I was entirely blameless; it does serve me right… a bit. But only because I should have learned my lesson from last time. But, you know, you keep thinking, hoping against hope that people are going to be OK. Oh anyway, the long and the short of it, Bette, is that the guy asked me if I wanted to see him in the pop up, I said no, but he still put his web cam on and there’s he was in front of me - wanking." </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">There was a sadness and disappointment about her; probably as a result of that last fiasco with the Market Research Guy. It wasn’t that she was shocked or outraged by what he did. Who cares? People do it. But here was a Stella I hadn’t seen before; her optimism had somehow been raped. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">And I just wanted to smack the douchebag, arsehole, fuckwit. Sorry about the language - I’m feeling extraordinarily angry on her behalf. Because for all that I sometimes portray her as pushy and gobby and out-there in this blog, she’s got a heart of gold, is one of the most considerate people I know, is a super mum whose kids (despite my silly digs at them) are a real credit to her, and has so much life, stamina and adventure in her that any man should think himself bloody grateful to have her. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">"Sod it," she said after a couple of minutes of staring out into my garden. "Where's your Ipod? Stick it on." She scrolled down, picked up my orange highlighter, put it to her lips and began to sing to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XfuBREMXxts">this</a>. Irrepressible - thank God! </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">I can’t say that I would be quite so bothered if this scenario had happened to me, well, not after my recent <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/05/gods-little-way-of-giving-you-kuta.html">KUTA</a> and <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/05/quel-branleur.html">the guy on the mobile. </a>I’m learning too. I think I'm almost at the point of being able to treat it like any another David Attenborough documentary - a brief glimpse at an animal in its own habitat. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">Meanwhile, I do believe I have a rather lovely date coming up shortly; I don't quite know why but I feel really good about it. (Kiss of death?) Also, Stella has <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/05/what-jolly-good-wheeze.html">recycled one of her ex dates onto the same friend I recycled my ex date on.</a> The system is working well. ;) </span></span></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-56722741496789161192011-05-29T14:43:00.006+01:002011-06-12T14:37:47.529+01:00God's Little Way of Giving You a KUTA<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Or even - a Kick Up The Arse. In <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/05/shes-got-it-yeah-baby-shes-got-it.html">the last blog</a>, you may recall, The Guy Up Top bestowed the fleeting gift of self-confidence and love for all humankind upon me; birds sang, butterflies hovered above flowers, the sun shone, and I had no need of Spanx. In fact, nearly all was Disney. Two days later what I'm about to report happened. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Some of you who <strike>manage to get through these blogs without falling asleep</strike> greedily devour these blogs are also internet daters, and I’d like your opinion because I'm truly baffled and feeling out of sync with the rest of the planet. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><u>Let’s call him Andy.</u></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Setting: The Website Inbox</span></div><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We've exchanged a couple of messages each; they were business-like-ish, but friendly with a bit of mild banter. Very mild. He seems like a reasonable person. I venture this: </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><span style="color: #e06666;">Me</span>: Hi Andy, I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to be really honest here. I try to keep the messages on the website to about four each way, otherwise it can become very time-consuming and intrusive, and can lead to <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/03/you-wont-find-another-fool-like-me-babe.html">all kinds of disappointments.</a> And there's no better way to get to know someone than to actually make a date and meet. I hope that's OK with you?<span style="color: blue;"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><span style="color: blue;">Him</span>: Why the aggressive tone? This isn’t like your first message at all. Why do you feel the need to do that? Isn’t it better that we get to know each other on here first? Don’t you think that’s rather quick? You appear very angry. I’m a bit of an internet virgin, so I maybe I’ve got a lot to learn. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e06666;">Me</span>: Hi Andy, I don’t mean to be aggressive – I’m very sorry if it seems that way. My approach is based on experience. I’ve been on here for about five months in total. I've met some very nice people, made some marvelous friends, but also come across some jerks. I've chosen to take you at face value – you seem like a genuine and decent person. I don’t know what it’s like on the male side of the website, but for a woman it can sometimes get a little bit unpleasant, so my preference is to just nip in and out. It’s partly a question of staying safe, partly a question of staying sane. I don't plan to come on the website for a while, but if you want to contact me at my hotmail address, here it is. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">MY dear FFFs - friends, followers and family - how lovely of me was <i>that</i>? Wasn’t it lovely? I mean <b><u>really, really lovely,</u></b> given my usual level of <strike>misanthropy</strike> caution. So far, only eight people have managed to squeeze into that little window of opportunity; three of them are still there being good mates. You mightn't have heard of them: not everybody is blog fair game. But I meander - let's get back to it: </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;">Him</span>: I don't understand you at all. What do you want from me? You send me your email address, but if I contact you then you'll obviously know mine. Why would I want that? And you’ve just mentioned staying safe. I don’t know the first thing about you either. You could be anyone. Why should I tell you anything? </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So now I’m getting somewhat pissed off and regretting having given him the bloody email address. But hey! Person-centred counselling hat back on! I wouldn’t want to be a male on the receiving end of a female stalker. In the meantime, four more unsolicited messages in the inbox. It’s worse than writing bloody Christmas cards… (Oh yeah, FFFs, sorry if you didn’t get one last year. Or the year before. I’m getting round to it. ;) Honest!) </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e06666;">Me</span>: Andy, Quite right! You don’t need to give me your usual address. I wouldn’t dream of handing mine out to all and sundry. But there is nothing easier than setting up an anonymous hotmail account if you want to. It would just give us the opportunity to exchange a few messages without the hassle associated with the site. Anyway, I’m sorry but I really must go now. I’ll leave it up to you - if you want to contact me, super. If not, then not. All the best to you whatever you decide, CB x</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I thought that was fair enough. Or maybe it wasn’t? That little x nonsense on the end is supposed to signify some level of warmth, isn’t it? Sufficient encouragement? No hard feelings? Apparently not!<span style="color: blue;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;">Him</span>: You are a very strange and unpleasant woman. I have no idea why you are even on this website if you don’t want to talk to people. Isn’t that the whole point of it? Your tone is really aggressive and you sound very bitter and twisted. Is there anything about your profile that's true? You say you have friends but I can’t imagine you having any friends at all if this is the way you deal with people. Perhaps you need to sort that out before starting dating. You are not somebody I would want to get to know at all. Most unpleasant. Hard and vile. Thanks very much but I think I’ll pass. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"></span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Whoaaah! Eh? Yer wa? (And for the non-English, non-northern readers – roughly translated ‘yer wa?’ is 'I respectfully beg your pardon?') </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Was the whole thing a wind-up on his part from the very beginning? Just so he could get to the punch line? Did I really sound so aggressive? I thought I just sounded grown up and matter of fact. Ooer, I mean - how ‘fluffy’ do you have to be? </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Perhaps I shouldn’t be asking the girls. Are there any men reading this? What exactly did I do wrong? Tell me gently; I’m having a minor sort of crisis. Clearly, I'm not bothered about the Andy guy - meh! But just wondering whether the woman who was asked for a kiss from a (visually challenged) complete stranger is the same one as the bitter and twisted, hard and vile person described above and the same one that's writing this blog. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And I do have friends... Erm, some... Well, at least one, perhaps? Don't I? Stellaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa - you aren't just a figment of my imagination, are you? </span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-70418001674103539632011-05-26T17:09:00.003+01:002011-06-23T18:40:48.136+01:00She's Got It! Yeah, Baby, She's Got It!<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There are some days when you just feel tremendously alive; I had one of those yesterday. From the minute I woke up, through to the journey to work and then all day long, resulting in plenty of fun, banter and cheekiness with my colleagues. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After work I nipped in to the local hostelry for a drink where, it just so happened, there was a wake - one of those enjoyable wakes where the deceased has given the opportunity to family and friends for another good old shindig since the last wedding, christening or funeral. I had to walk through the cheery throng to get to the loo; then I had to walk back. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Well, you'll never guess what! I was spotted! As I strolled by a group of chatty, laughing men and women comfortably sprawled at a large round table, one of the party grabbed me by the hand. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Do you speak English?” he said. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Yes,” I said. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Great! My brothers have all just bet me five pounds that you won’t give me a kiss. But if I give you the five pounds, will you do it?” All this with a grin on his face and in extremely good-natured fashion. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">What’s in a kiss, right? “Sure,” I said, “But you don’t have to pay me. I’ll be happy to do it for nothing,” I said and planted a very loud smacker on his cheek. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">His family giggled, marvelled at his chutzpah and teased him that he’d struck gold. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So OK – they were all near, at or well beyond pensionable age. But who cares!? I’m fifty! He could have done the same to a 40 year old or a 30 year old, but no! He chose me! <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JH3WvI_S6-k&feature=related">Woop, woop! </a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I suspect that when you are buzzing, your pheromones travel far and wide like dandelion spores carried by the breeze; mine must have landed on him. Hehe! Sharon Stone, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NUR9HGpdwzU&feature=related">pay attention</a>! On the right day I can still wup yo’ skinny ass! <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA1vT63CePBDifKzPXWr74LbAPDKx1YMDTIZ5o1RvPOhc-m0VuDK5SraCpQCiFA-w9ja_miXGHrOBXFz6Fakk2yalDP7QA3RgfFnBuNUu9xBbX8_90NW0iG3r0cU0-B36fUfM_bu79rYQ/s1600/jessica+painted+up.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA1vT63CePBDifKzPXWr74LbAPDKx1YMDTIZ5o1RvPOhc-m0VuDK5SraCpQCiFA-w9ja_miXGHrOBXFz6Fakk2yalDP7QA3RgfFnBuNUu9xBbX8_90NW0iG3r0cU0-B36fUfM_bu79rYQ/s320/jessica+painted+up.png" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Wonder if that would have happened if I still had <a href="http://musingoncruising.blogspot.com/2011/02/whoop-or-is-it-woop-woop-something-like.html">the wart, the grey hair, the broken capillaries, the moustache?</a>? ;) Thanks, Stella! </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now, if only I could manufacture that feeling on daily basis, I'd never need that sodding, bloody, pain-in-the-arse website! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">PS Guffaw! 'like dandelion spores carried by the breeze' - uncharacteristically lyrical... almost, erm... Keats. Them there pheromones affect so many things! </span></div>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1089981230312340196.post-6989688712791041802011-05-25T21:39:00.000+01:002011-05-25T21:39:58.372+01:00What a jolly good wheeze!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">You may have noticed that I haven't posted for a couple of days. You've missed me, right? I know, I know - I didn't phone, I didn't email, I didn't blog - what kind of a correspondent am I? But followers, forgive me! It's because I've been busy lining up dates and going out on them.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Sadly, so far nothing to show for it. However, in the interests of world peace and global harmony, I have come up with a magnificent scheme. Taraa! </span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Recycling!</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I went on a date with a guy yesterday - he was nice, but not my type - not that I have any idea what my type is - as you may have already surmised. How can I put it? He was quite presentable, but it was like spending an hour and a half chatting to unobtrusive wallpaper. This doesn't necessarily mean he was unexciting, and I mean that most sincerely; maybe I just didn't bring out <i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;">the best</span></b></i> in him. Is it me? Anyhow, we both recognized it was a no go. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Afterwards I had a natter with one of my friends who is on the same website as I am and discovered my former potential paramour does, in fact, have at least one attribute my girlfriend is <strike>gagging for</strike> looking for, something she finds tremendously sexy. (And no, it's nothing rude! Oh, the sewer minds this blog attracts!) Anyway, such serendipity! So I checked it out with her and checked it out with him, and they were both amenable to 'preliminary enquiries'. Marvellous! I could, after all, vouch for his courteousness, his cleanliness, his punctuality, his ability to combine consonants and vowels - goodness, so much going for him! They are now aware of each other's pseudonym, so who knows -this may be me by the end of the year.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNFz6UYtQ9K2yBt2NuczEpD4IqWCMXKuWAQiJM9Pyn7O3RQTJC04TkFxUtir7JCRHHFCoZo-UxcQ6T5Wx1aR5P6tXxNRMr5jG-pFm9eY3N2910AIhCpLLahwOhe85SBL3NBIGTMqDpR9U/s1600/beatrice+hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNFz6UYtQ9K2yBt2NuczEpD4IqWCMXKuWAQiJM9Pyn7O3RQTJC04TkFxUtir7JCRHHFCoZo-UxcQ6T5Wx1aR5P6tXxNRMr5jG-pFm9eY3N2910AIhCpLLahwOhe85SBL3NBIGTMqDpR9U/s320/beatrice+hat.jpg" width="172" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">(Somebody should have told the <a href="http://blogs.coventrytelegraph.net/passtheremote/wedding%20hat%20princess%20beatrice%20two.jpg">poor misguided girl</a> about that concoction.) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> cannot say any more on this topic at present, lest it ends up being true love, but I expect she'll divulge all the horrific minutiae if it all goes belly up. (Bette claps hands in gleeful anticipation - might be a good story ;) Hehe!)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But I don't think this radical new enterprise can work in isolation, so I'm considering starting a collective. We can pass them onto each other - the dating version of a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;"><b>charity shop! </b></span>It makes so much sense, don't you think?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Update on The Frenchman - absolutely bloody nothing! A flurry of texts (for which, incidentally, dear followers, I went to the <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;">MASSIVE TROUBLE</span> </span></b>of turning English predictive text off - <i><u>yes, I did</u></i>) and then... zip. Silence. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Oh and by the way, a propos of the above also - I met Stella for coffee today, and we discussed the <strike>Beaver </strike>Frenchman. "What's his pseudonym?" she asked me. I told her. "Oh yeah, him," she said. "I chatted to him for ages. Total bloody waste of time and effort.'</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Tomorrow I'm going to W.H.Smith where I'll buy four notebooks to distribute among my website girlies. They can inscribe all the names of tossers they come across. I was thinking of A6 initially, but maybe A4 might be a better option. </span>Cousin Bettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04876334467093660755noreply@blogger.com4