'Course, it's Valentine's Day, innit?
Yeah, well.
But....
Well, am supposed to be meeting a Water Sign man in April.
Friday went out with Clare and her man, to a folk club. She's now moved up north full-time, she says, but you never know with Clare, she's so itinerant. The folk club was lovely with some of the regulars from the old place I used to go to. ('Nough said). Clare's man's an old friend of Bonnie's late husband. Bonnie introduced them, really, and they've been together years, on and off. Clare always moaning about him.
"If I win the Lottery, I'll tippex him out." she said on Friday. But she's been talking like this for at least fifteen years and they're still together.
Saturday, I just cried. No reason and I don't cry much these days. I think it was Bonnie being with her fiance and Clare and Man being such an item. All my bloomin' life I've been on my own. Relationships were only ever interludes. I know, I'm past it but I'd like a relationship. I mean, I wouldn't have to decided where to live, would I 'cos I could live wherever he lives.
He'll have to like cats. And probably dogs. And not boss me about. And iron his own shirts. And - camel joke - why do the Legionnaires all rush out after dinner?
"'Er - it's to have sex with a camel.
"I see. But - what's the rush?"
"Well, you don't want an ugly one, do you?"
Then, to top it all, no, no post and, somehow, by mistake, I'd picked up some of Bonnie's post (opened) and I was looking at a list from a posh Geordie hotel about wedding things.
I'd love a wedding. Favours and all that. Nice frock. Or, maybe, off-white suit with gold thread, I saw just the thing once. Maybe, I'll go to a beach in the Caribbean....
Divorcees and widows tend to remarry. Why is it spinsters don't even get one go?
Suspect spinsters are more fussy.