It took me a long time to realise that I was quite anti-social, given that I had always considered myself to be quite friendly and outgoing. It was probably when I was accepting an invitation to something knowing already that I was going to think up an excuse not to go nearer the time because it was a Tuesday night and Smallville was on.
I spent many years thinking there was something wrong with me because I didn't seem to be programmed to survive in a relationship, and then one day I just accepted that there was nothing wrong with me...I just like my own company more than most of the people - certainly the men anyway - that I have ever met in my life.
And with that realisation I happpily took the path least travelled, choosing to be single, not because I can't get a boyfriend, not because no one likes me, but because that's what makes me happy.
But all the people that kept telling me "You'll change your mind when you meet the right person" turned out to be right. And I'm trying really hard not to do a complete about turn and become all smug about it. But I feel damn smug right now!
Of course it's true that good can't survive without evil. I mean would the rebel alliance even exist if it wasn't for the Empire? Would Superman need to save the world if Lex Luthor wasn't trying to take it over? No!
So I realised this morning that I had been stood in front of the mirror in my unmatching black bra and Paul Frank monkey yellow Tuesday pants, with a big pair of green crocodile slippers on my feet, towel wrapped turban like around my head cursing myself for not having gotten round to replacing the old pretty/sexy underwear sets I'd thrown out last year on the understanding that no one would be seeing them anyway and I needed a whole host of new underwear after a random growth spurt saw me go up a bra size.
I was also aware that I was contemplating what I was going to wear when he comes over for dinner tonight...or rather - to cook me pancakes.
When I realised I'd been stood there looking forlornly at my reflection for half an hour it occurred to me that a) he really wouldn't care at all what I was wearing, coz that sort of thing really isn't very important, and b) he's not coming over for like another 7 hours...and I gladly pulled on my sweat pants and started making some breakfast!
Although this little random episode came straight after I'd had a bath, shaved my legs, plucked my eyebrows and moisturised...moisturised for Gods sake.
But I cant help thinking that I am making an extra effort because he doesn't actually expect it. He seems quite content and happy with me just as I am...I mean if he turned round to me and said "fuckin' hell you're a hairy bitch have a shave will you" I'd be throwing out the razors in a formal protest, or if he told me how rough I look when I first wake up in the morning with a hangover, I'd be thinking "hmph love me love my faults" and all those "if he can't accept me as I am then he can fuck off" "This is me take it or leave it" type cliches.
But he doesn't. He smiles at me, kisses my rancid alcohol stinking morning mouth and tells me I'm beautiful!
So while I moan about the grooming, and the having to be sociable and meet new people, it's a necessary evil, and totally worth it. I once said I didn't want to go looking for mr right, I wanted him to swing by and land next to me on the sofa...and that he did!
Showing posts with label Mr Right. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mr Right. Show all posts
Tuesday, 24 February 2009
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
Too Much of a Good Thing
Someone told me once that if you do something 21 times it just becomes a natural part of your routine.
Admittedly this was meant to encourage me to go to the gym 3 times a week for a mere 7 weeks to make it part of my new health regime a few years ago - needless to say it didn't catch on. I probably stopped after 6 weeks before I was in danger of getting too used to it and becoming a health freak.
Although I may well have spent way more than 21 days in the spa, but that's different, and since I gave up my gym membership I definitely mourn the loss of the jacuzzi.
There may well be many things I have done 21 times and just accepted as part of my normal routine. Definitely watching TV. Apparently for every 2 hours of TV you watch you increase your risk of obesity by 23%. Blimey, I'm suprised I can even lever myself off the sofa, let alone walk! I also heard a rumour that watching TV stunts your growth, I actually started shrinking at one point, but it's totally worth it; TV makes the world go round.
I'd go as far as to say that pretty much everything I know about the world I learned from TV. And if watching TV was so bad why did we have entire lessons in Primary School dedicated to watching the weekly episode of some educational kids programme. I want to call it "Mummy and Me" but that makes no sense...although may explain why teachers often got accidentally called Mummy!
But really I suppose I'm a creature of habit, I don't think I necessarily have to do it 21 times to make it a habit. I just need to like it.
As a kid my mum was always trying to get me to like new foods, I was such a fussy eater and when I liked something I just wanted to eat it all the time. My mum got sick of saying "No, you had that last night, you make yourself sick on it" and I'd laugh and think, why would I ever go off that, it's the best food ever! Then 2 weeks later the thought of eating it again would make me feel sick and it would relagated to the back of my mind where I keep food menus, for a few months.
Except Pizza right? I mean no one gets bored of pizza. If I had to make a guess at what my body was made up of it would be lager, pizza and kebabs. But the strangest thing happened when I was eating pizza for breakfast on Sunday morning and realised I'd had pizza 9 times in a fortnight...I realised I was sick of pizza. I'm not entirely sure where my fuel is coming from over the next few weeks but it would seem that my mum was right when she told me "you can have too much of a good thing".
Songs too, if I hear a song I like I play it over and over on repeat and sing along to it at the top of my voice for a week and then I think "oh God I'm so sick of hearing this song, it's on all the time, change the bleedin' record!"
And I love sitting off on the sofa on my own watching TV, I'm pretty anti-social and when I spend time with people I am secretly longing for the time when I can make my excuses to go back home.
Except once in a while I might spend an evening with someone and enjoy it so much, that I want to do it again, and again and again...until they bore me and I have to avoid them for a while.
I'll know I've met Mr Right when I've been in his company 21 times and still not got bored of him!
14 down, 7 dates to go....!
Admittedly this was meant to encourage me to go to the gym 3 times a week for a mere 7 weeks to make it part of my new health regime a few years ago - needless to say it didn't catch on. I probably stopped after 6 weeks before I was in danger of getting too used to it and becoming a health freak.
Although I may well have spent way more than 21 days in the spa, but that's different, and since I gave up my gym membership I definitely mourn the loss of the jacuzzi.
There may well be many things I have done 21 times and just accepted as part of my normal routine. Definitely watching TV. Apparently for every 2 hours of TV you watch you increase your risk of obesity by 23%. Blimey, I'm suprised I can even lever myself off the sofa, let alone walk! I also heard a rumour that watching TV stunts your growth, I actually started shrinking at one point, but it's totally worth it; TV makes the world go round.
I'd go as far as to say that pretty much everything I know about the world I learned from TV. And if watching TV was so bad why did we have entire lessons in Primary School dedicated to watching the weekly episode of some educational kids programme. I want to call it "Mummy and Me" but that makes no sense...although may explain why teachers often got accidentally called Mummy!
But really I suppose I'm a creature of habit, I don't think I necessarily have to do it 21 times to make it a habit. I just need to like it.
As a kid my mum was always trying to get me to like new foods, I was such a fussy eater and when I liked something I just wanted to eat it all the time. My mum got sick of saying "No, you had that last night, you make yourself sick on it" and I'd laugh and think, why would I ever go off that, it's the best food ever! Then 2 weeks later the thought of eating it again would make me feel sick and it would relagated to the back of my mind where I keep food menus, for a few months.
Except Pizza right? I mean no one gets bored of pizza. If I had to make a guess at what my body was made up of it would be lager, pizza and kebabs. But the strangest thing happened when I was eating pizza for breakfast on Sunday morning and realised I'd had pizza 9 times in a fortnight...I realised I was sick of pizza. I'm not entirely sure where my fuel is coming from over the next few weeks but it would seem that my mum was right when she told me "you can have too much of a good thing".
Songs too, if I hear a song I like I play it over and over on repeat and sing along to it at the top of my voice for a week and then I think "oh God I'm so sick of hearing this song, it's on all the time, change the bleedin' record!"
And I love sitting off on the sofa on my own watching TV, I'm pretty anti-social and when I spend time with people I am secretly longing for the time when I can make my excuses to go back home.
Except once in a while I might spend an evening with someone and enjoy it so much, that I want to do it again, and again and again...until they bore me and I have to avoid them for a while.
I'll know I've met Mr Right when I've been in his company 21 times and still not got bored of him!
14 down, 7 dates to go....!
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