Bollocks to this - I'm off to Dorset for the weekend.
Cliffs, gusts of wind and cream teas. Be well!!

1. Bloggers- you should have seen my therapist's face when I revealed that after thinking about it long and hard for a week and finally deciding that yes, I would ask my.. my... lover? boyfriend? manfriend? if he'd consider moving in with me - he said yes.

2. It's going to happen.
I know!

3. Perhaps as I write, said therapist is pacing up and down his living room shaking his head and wondering what to do with me.

Or not?

1. Sunday morning, there's always one place to be: in bed. Jealous cat standing in the doorway, peering in suspiciously- I know she'll learn to love him. Eventually. Maybe.

-People keep asking me how we met.
- And what do you say?
-Mmm.. through a friend...he smiles.
-We need to find something more creative. What about : we have the same dealer?
- Or: I followed her home one night after work?
- Or: we met in a professional capacity but she says I can stop paying her from the first day of next month?
- Or viceversa: I'd always wanted to give those escort agencies a try...

2. I'm still in nauseating loved up state, bloggers.

3. I think he liked his birthday villanelle..

Bloggers, I'm not dead, I'm merely busy trying to put together a birthday villanelle, which must.be.finished by tomorrow night.

I might have to resort to whisky.
Wish me luck.

Bloggers, I've been busy not working this week, and it was good.

1. I sat in the sun by the river for a couple of hours yesterday morning; the air smelled of mud and grass and, perhaps, of the end of winter. A heron landed on a nearby pole and ignored me superbly.

2. I have gone out a lot, in the cold wet mess that is London right now, to eat, look at things, mooch around museums and bookshops, walk around, sit in taverns until the wee hours and forget about the Februariness outside.

3. I have realised that since none of those things I did alone, there is very much a 'we' phenomenon going on. And do you know how I feel about that, bloggers?  I feel great, that's how. Quite smitten, actually. Yay.

4. Therefore.... we also booked train tickets to go to Dorset, and plane tickets to go to Madrid all within the next five weeks. Then when that was done we were so excited that I found myself being lifted up and carried across the room, which worked just fine with my usual way of expressing joy: squealing like a clubbed baby seal.

5. Apart from all my sickening news of newly found bliss.. I'm waiting for spring. Hello Spring, remember us? Time you came back, it's getting lonely here without you. Think about it. We're poised.

1. I'll land at 4.30, he said.
I'll call you as soon as I'm through, he said.
I can't wait to see you, he said.
That was via email, so he couldn't see just how vigorously I was nodding.

2.At 3pm the flat was under control, dust swept under the sofa, cat ready, his fur all brushed and with a fetching side parting.
At 3.30 I had a bath in my Most Luxurious Bath Products.
At 4pm I made my hair shiny-shiny and put on some clothes, like I hadn't really tried very hard - ha, who am I trying to fool? This jumper that slips off my shoulder, do you really think it's an accident? Well, do you?
At 4.30 I checked the Heathrow website to make sure no plane had crashed while I wasn't looking.
At 5pm I danced a little round the kitchen in anticipation.
At 5.50 I suddenly felt really tired and made some coffee.
It's now 6.35 and NOTHING.

But I'm keeping the faith, bloggers. He's not like that. Right?

9pm update: I knew it,  it wasn't entirely his fault, he's just challenged with writing down phone numbers and left dispairing voice messages on someone else's answerphone all afternoon.. until he realised.

1. Oh, look, we're meant to be all romantic today.

2. Perhaps the following extract from a recent conversation will illustrate just how romantic I am:

- So -I digress from something completely different , probably - yeah, in Ivory Coast we used to go out into the forest with that giant butterfly net and catch them for my fucked up step father's collection. Which got eaten up by moths anyway.
- I can picture you catching butterflies.. it sounds like such a delicate thing to do..
- mm here's where I shatter all your dreams and tell you the ugly truth about butterfly hunting.
- .......?
- Do you know what's the best way to attract butterflies? Especially the rarest species?
- no...?
- You take a massive dump. Then they literally flock to you. Herds of butterflies. That's how you catch' em. Honest.

He laughed. Phew. I didn't ruin it all after all.

3. This morning I received a text message from Rome - there is something for you hidden behind the mirror in your bedroom, it said.
I giggled like Marie Antoinette if she had eaten crack macaroons, let me tell you.
He's lovely.
Not here right now, but lovely - and coming back tomorrow. Yay!

4. Happy V day, everyone.

1. Bloggers, I can't help it, I'm being really rather smitten; I like it. Flutters, daydreaming, etc.

2. On my dating site of choice, there is the option to make one's profile invisible - not quite pulling it, but almost.

3. I'm being extremely inarticulate today - this blogpost should not be. I'll be back. Be well!

1.Yes, yes, I know! I did say that perhaps it would be better to take it slow, wait a couple of weeks before inviting him into my bed.
I know! I did say that.

2. I thought that perhaps he was too romantic for me - so romantic that he would want to wait, take it even slower; a little too shy, too, perhaps too shy to be a good lover. I was a little scared to be disappointed : I like self-confidence and initiative, you see, bloggers, and playfulness. A little kink as a bonus.

3. But! on Friday night after we strolled through London, after a little pub-hopping and much kissing on street corners ...the invitation just slipped out for the following night.

4. Self-confidence, initiative, playfulness.. and a little kink.
In a romantic kind of way.

5. Wow.

Perched on bar stools we sat, arms touching, and there was wine and hyperbolic tapas and a little more wine, too much perhaps, too late perhaps for a Monday night but we had all the time in the world and what was the point of going home anyway when all good things were right there?

So we went onto that wine bar which is a cellar really, with vaulted ceilings and dripping candles and rickety wooden tables tucked away in corners; we drank white port and definitely too much sherry for a Monday night and he put his arms around me and we kissed.

What disgraceful behaviour, I said, dishevelled.
I don't care, he replied calmly.

But it was Monday night - I fell asleep smiling on the tube on the way home.