Why don't you just -
Well, shit. When I grow up, if this psychology thing doesn't work out, I'm gonna buy a bookshop, and I'm gonna be surly and rude to all the customers, and I'm not gonna brush my hair, and I'm gonna tease Bill Bailey about his hair, and sometimes The Actor Kevin Eldon will show up and scare the beejeebus out of everyone, and there'll be an impossibly pretty funny woman in the shop next door, and I will make wine for the Pope. IT'LL BE FAB.
So yes. I'm going to be Bernard Black.
This is a cautionary tale of a situation whereby you will end up going "BAH" and deciding you want to be a fictional bookshop owner. And the moral of it is: don't get too excited too soon.
So, a date, right? That's all good and exciting and I've never been on a real date and EEEE! So karrotsoup calls me and asks for the gossip and I tell her; we were emailing on OK Cupid and this is his name and INSERT CARTOON SCREECHY BRAKES NOISE HERE.
Cuz Tracy is on OK Cupid too! And he'd been emailing her too! And he'd been odd and creepy! And cue the facepalm!
Which made me think again: I said I wanted to meet him in Benedicts, which is a restaurant and bar where I try to take everybody at least once (mental note: never taken Sarah there, do this next time she is over) because it's yummy and really nice and also in this case because it's in the city centre and always pretty busy, so I thought that'd be nice and safe.
Then he says, no I don't want to meet there, it'll make me nervous (whut). Erm, okay, where should we meet? In a bar, he says. Benedicts IS a bar but never mind, and he suggests Bar 12, which is fine but is somewhere off Botanic Avenue. I know Botanic Avenue because I'm there all the time, but I don't know where Bar 12 is and I'm a dick and just because somewhere looks dandy on googlemaps (I did look it up) it doesn't mean it IS okay. Why didn't I think of this last night? I don't know.
Now obviously it is my decision alone whether or not I want to go. But frankly I'd be seriously deluded to not take into account the thoughts of someone I've been friends with for ten years. But now I'm just a leeeetle uncomfortable with the fact he's been a bit erm to someone else and also with the not meeting in Benedicts thing. So...
Instinct always wins and mine's got the little alarm bell going off. I therefore do not have a date next Friday after all. So there's that.
It's a good thing I was in a good mood today so I'm not too upset. Mildly annoyed but only a little bit gutted.
Oh, and! Today I paid someone to touch me.
...I had a massage, pervbrain. XD
Neck and shoulder massage because stress brings on the shoulder pain. It was diviiiiine. So blissful it's almost an argument for the existence of heaven. If I don't sleep like a very relaxed log tonight, I don't think I ever will.
Right! Going to bed to read more of Anansi Boys, because Gaiman makes it all better.
PS I still hate the Penguins. Have not warmed to them in the slightest, about threw up when Crosby lifted the Cup. Oh fuck 'em, let them have their shiny thing. NEXT.
So yes. I'm going to be Bernard Black.
This is a cautionary tale of a situation whereby you will end up going "BAH" and deciding you want to be a fictional bookshop owner. And the moral of it is: don't get too excited too soon.
So, a date, right? That's all good and exciting and I've never been on a real date and EEEE! So karrotsoup calls me and asks for the gossip and I tell her; we were emailing on OK Cupid and this is his name and INSERT CARTOON SCREECHY BRAKES NOISE HERE.
Cuz Tracy is on OK Cupid too! And he'd been emailing her too! And he'd been odd and creepy! And cue the facepalm!
Which made me think again: I said I wanted to meet him in Benedicts, which is a restaurant and bar where I try to take everybody at least once (mental note: never taken Sarah there, do this next time she is over) because it's yummy and really nice and also in this case because it's in the city centre and always pretty busy, so I thought that'd be nice and safe.
Then he says, no I don't want to meet there, it'll make me nervous (whut). Erm, okay, where should we meet? In a bar, he says. Benedicts IS a bar but never mind, and he suggests Bar 12, which is fine but is somewhere off Botanic Avenue. I know Botanic Avenue because I'm there all the time, but I don't know where Bar 12 is and I'm a dick and just because somewhere looks dandy on googlemaps (I did look it up) it doesn't mean it IS okay. Why didn't I think of this last night? I don't know.
Now obviously it is my decision alone whether or not I want to go. But frankly I'd be seriously deluded to not take into account the thoughts of someone I've been friends with for ten years. But now I'm just a leeeetle uncomfortable with the fact he's been a bit erm to someone else and also with the not meeting in Benedicts thing. So...
Instinct always wins and mine's got the little alarm bell going off. I therefore do not have a date next Friday after all. So there's that.
It's a good thing I was in a good mood today so I'm not too upset. Mildly annoyed but only a little bit gutted.
Oh, and! Today I paid someone to touch me.
...I had a massage, pervbrain. XD
Neck and shoulder massage because stress brings on the shoulder pain. It was diviiiiine. So blissful it's almost an argument for the existence of heaven. If I don't sleep like a very relaxed log tonight, I don't think I ever will.
Right! Going to bed to read more of Anansi Boys, because Gaiman makes it all better.
PS I still hate the Penguins. Have not warmed to them in the slightest, about threw up when Crosby lifted the Cup. Oh fuck 'em, let them have their shiny thing. NEXT.