I met The Boy at Speed dating in January 2009 and I knew straight away that I'd met someone special. I remember writing on my date card "29, works for Boxing Orange in IT, Geordie, funny, talked about TV - likes Lost!"
When I got home I wrote in my paper diary that he had starlingly green eyes, freckles and a fantastic smile. I didn't even mind him being a Geordie. His voice manages to be all at once deep and softened by his accent. For our first date we met in Baby Jupiter (my official date bar) and I remember I walked straight past him on the street outside because he was wearing The Ugly Coat Of Evil and I just didn't recognise him in it.
We had dinner at Brown's which was lovely, I introduced him to Sailor Jerry's (back when it was lovely and not the almond flavoured crap that it is now) and then he kissed me on the cheek before putting me in a taxi home.
Sadly we never went on the second date because he is a total berk. He had also arranged a date with the lady who organised the Speed Dating and called to tell me that he didn't like the idea of dating two women at once and wanted to see what happened with her first.
I wasn't heartbroken because I told myself he was an idiot, but I couldn't help admiring his honesty (a big thing with me) and remembered how much I'd liked him.
We had made Facebook friends after our Speed date and in June of the same year I commented on a post he made complaining about a hangover and was thrilled when he Inboxed me to ask me if I'd be offended if he asked me out again.
So we had a second first date on June 17th and been together ever since. On our date we met again at Baby Jupiter, then went on to Piccolinos for dinner, to the cinema to watch The Hangover (which was so godawful that not even smuggling in a bottle of wine improved it - but we were brought back together over a hangover so it seemed fitting) and then out to Wardrobe for drinks. Far too many drinks. Oh the hangover. Oh dear me.
I was thinking about our Second first date this morning when I saw in Shortlist Magazine that they're making a sequel.
Our hero: They've made The Hangover Part II set in Bangkok!!
The Boy: That will be shit as well. Did you use my printer? xxx
Our hero: No love, how could I?
The Boy: Hmmmmmm it is sensibly plugged into the back USB port, I didn't think to do that! Confuzzled x
Our hero: Wasn't me my love. I wouldn't touch your computer. You printed some docs off for me recently, are you sure you didn't do it then? xxx
The Boy: No I am stoopid and use the front USB
Our hero: You ARE stoopid. Maybe I was using my spideysense and tidying up in my sleep again. or maybe it was the spider in the bathroom. He had the air of a workplace assessment junkie.
It's nice to have The Boy home. I can leave the living room windows open all day to air out the smell of stale smoke and I can ask him to put laundry in for me whilst he's working from home.
There are other reasons of course. I can't think of any but I'm sure I liked having him as a boyfriend when he was around all the time.
Onto more important things. Yes, stale smoke. Last night I was applying warm water and vinegar until 10PM last night (worked until about 6:30 or 7:00pm so it was only 2 and a half hours but that's a lot of time to spend rubbing a sofa) and I genuinely thought that the smell of smoke was fading. I applied the dry baking powder to the top of the cushions and also set a heavily salted grapefruit half to the top of each cushion (I didn't have any lemons or oranges!). When the Boy got home at 10 he agreed that there was no trace of smoke in the living room. It was definitely neutralised so I went to bed happy.
This morning when I woke up I couldn't smell smoke which made me extremely happy so I went downstairs to see what it was like in the room. By the time I got to the bottom of the stairs I could smell stale smoke from there. It's definitely lessened - but it's not gone.
I'm not quite sure how it could have gone last night and be back now but I dutifully opened all the windows and will buy more vinegar today and have another go. This time with latex gloves on because my hands are peeling!
Last night I had cleaned the house before The Boy got home and was on my usual OCD knife edge in case he left aTrail of Destruction in his wake upon getting home.
I walked past his office to go to bed and my Spidey Sense told me he had some article of clothing draped over his chair instead of in the laundry basket or in the wardrobe - why do my superpowers only extend to instinctively knowing that somewhere is messy?
I'd be chucked out of the X-Men for that one. Gah.
I am going to avoid reading Sylist (DAMN YOU STYLIST!) because it makes me want to buy things I cannot afford and go sell some DVDs and CDs to Computer Exchange now.
Ziggy played guitarrrrrraaaaarrrrraaaarrrrrr.
Title: When I Live My Dream by David Bowie