Survivor
Photographic evidence.
It was nowhere near as excruciating a santicipated - mainly thanks to long and soul-soothing phone-call to Alice about the bitch that is romantic love, plus stupid texts from Andrew about impersonating Russians. You'll be surprised to hear that boys out-attended girls - plus we got visitors from Wills. (More later). (See that? Sense of foreboding to create epistemophilia in the reader - desire of end-knowledge. Wait for it, pretties).
I made it round a couple of stretches of table but with eighty blokes lined up, obviously one can't do the impossible. I didn't meet the Husband (although one guy, towards the end, indulged me in discussing fertility, ideal family size, my child-bearing hips, etc). However, all the young men were immensely civil - some were even quite funny. In the midway break, I floated out on my conversational confidence right into the lap (not literally) of Will from Wills, nice young Christian fella doing English. He was superbly chatty! He was the last person I talked to and he invited me up the hill to their Bond party.
I didn't go, but I appreciated the invite and the general niceness of the event. Oi vey. I won't play that again for a while though.
I got boyfriend cravings at Stutter, what with the aforementioned handful of pretties, but the subtle reassurance of the universe has cooled down my raging hormones. Huzzah. I will plunge back into the embrace of Gerald MH's verse - that is, until I can no longer resist the urge to buy the Sunday Times purely for the lavish Style sec. Have a good Sunday, meine kleine cosmonautes.
It was nowhere near as excruciating a santicipated - mainly thanks to long and soul-soothing phone-call to Alice about the bitch that is romantic love, plus stupid texts from Andrew about impersonating Russians. You'll be surprised to hear that boys out-attended girls - plus we got visitors from Wills. (More later). (See that? Sense of foreboding to create epistemophilia in the reader - desire of end-knowledge. Wait for it, pretties).
I made it round a couple of stretches of table but with eighty blokes lined up, obviously one can't do the impossible. I didn't meet the Husband (although one guy, towards the end, indulged me in discussing fertility, ideal family size, my child-bearing hips, etc). However, all the young men were immensely civil - some were even quite funny. In the midway break, I floated out on my conversational confidence right into the lap (not literally) of Will from Wills, nice young Christian fella doing English. He was superbly chatty! He was the last person I talked to and he invited me up the hill to their Bond party.
I didn't go, but I appreciated the invite and the general niceness of the event. Oi vey. I won't play that again for a while though.
I got boyfriend cravings at Stutter, what with the aforementioned handful of pretties, but the subtle reassurance of the universe has cooled down my raging hormones. Huzzah. I will plunge back into the embrace of Gerald MH's verse - that is, until I can no longer resist the urge to buy the Sunday Times purely for the lavish Style sec. Have a good Sunday, meine kleine cosmonautes.