Friday, June 17, 2005
How to avoid a Bad Boyfriend - Never date a Foot Fetishist
So she started to date him because he was beautiful. His angelic face and cherubic baby blues promised something devilish deep down. He was a barman with smooth bronzed hold-me-now forearms that flexed as he pulled pints and pulled her. When they stumbled back to his place he leant in, stared into her eyes, reached down and unzipped…her boots. She had never liked her feet, her toes had been squashed in the womb and years of skyscraper heels, pointy shoes and dancing had knarled them even more. She tried to spruce them up a bit with a layer of polish once in a while and she was well aware that she had better bits but he seemed to love them and lust after them. He stroked them and rubbed them and as she leant forward to kiss him he pushed her back and started to kiss her toes one by one…he slipped them in and out of his mouth and she fought back the urge to giggle. He began to lick the soles making her ticklish toes curl uncontrollably... He smiled up at her and leaned over to unlace his mouldy work trainers, lifting his leg in her direction and wiggling his hairy digits at her. At this point she stood up and backed out of the room, blurting out excuses and aiming for the door. She couldn’t help thinking that for her, the ‘you scratch my back’ rule certainly would never, ever apply to feet…
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Romance is dead
So he comes home, we pour ourselves a glass of wine… I kiss him and he kisses me back. We move closer and the kiss turns into a full-blown snog. My hands start to wander. He mumbles something... I guess something romantic but didn’t quite catch it… ‘Sorry, say that again’ I say, still peppering him with kisses and holding him. He repeats himself, ‘What time is Eastenders on?’ I guess the honeymoon period is over...
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
I went out of my way to be where you were and then I would have waited forever. I wanted to hold your gaze but I was afraid that you’d see how tightly I’m entangled. I wanted to wow you with my wit and wisdom but I mumbled and jumbled and tripped over talking… when I left you I held onto what you said so tightly and wrapped it in layers of delicate paper and treasured it. Little words that made magic... ‘when I think about you it makes me smile… I’ve been smiling a lot lately’
Thursday, June 09, 2005
So I was out with my lovely friend last night for a delicious (if unnecessarily fiery) green curry. We sat and drank and put the world to rights and the best thing about it was that she was so happy. There’s something really special about watching someone really special having good things happen to them. Her happiness seeped from every pore and radiated from her face like a halo… it was infectious and irresistible… it was love and confidence and stability and excitement. It was surprise and ambition and eagerness and a new beginning and it couldn’t happen to a better, brighter or more brilliant person.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
In that split second I knew something electric was going to happen. There was a fraction of a time warp and the briefest hint of a satellite delay… the world slipped into slow motion and passed like a speeding train. It was the sort of moment when there’s a shout at the back of your throat that never even makes it out as a whisper. We didn’t speak. I don’t think you even noticed me noticing you but I saw you like a snapshot… or an x-ray, like an image from a movie overlaid with the red neon circles of a target. You said I was conceited to be so sure that I’d have you when I told you about it later but I just knew I felt it, felt it absolutely and totally and completely in that instant, that feeling that makes you want so much to never stop feeling that way again.
Monday, June 06, 2005
Hitting the slopes (quite literally)
So at the weekend I went snowboarding…Sounds impressive huh? (if slightly unseasonal). Unfortunately it wasn’t Aspen, or Whistler but actually Tamworth Snowdome that was the venue, and a pretty dreary destination it was too. The aim was to sample the sport with a view to possibly partaking in a snowy holiday next year but having had a bash I’m still not entirely sold on the idea. You see I’m distinctly un-sporty and completely uncoordinated which both seem to be vital traits for snowboarding rad-ness. I vaguely looked the part with my proper boardie trousers and groovy gloves but unfortunately forgot to pack a fleece and had to resort to using a dodgy ‘What Car’ branded one that I found in a heap in the back of my boyfriend’s car (it could have been worse, he had to wear a ‘Practical Caravan’ one). My enthusiasm wasn’t really boosted by the sorry excuse for an instructor who took my 2 hour lesson. More interested in chatting up another one of the instructors, he blatantly ignored my desperate pleas for help as I slid and slipped and tripped and tumbled down the slope. His most helpful comment was ‘When you fall over, don’t put your hands out’ …which let me tell you is hard to remember when you’re just about to hit a very thin layer of well packed ice covering a near vertical slope. Admittedly I was probably a student of the ‘difficult’ variety… a bit of a wimp, keen to question EVERYthing and prone to getting frustrated when I hadn’t reached semi professional status after the first half hour (not to mention the fact that my dribbly nose was pretty unattractive) but if he didn’t like teaching people… why was he there? He obviously wanted to have a cool job that involved posing about, wowing the laydees and doing as little as possible… But I was there to learn and he didn’t inspire me one bit. So if you ever end up with Michael as your snowboarding instructor I suggest you swap him, ideally for a guy called Richard who was a better instructor and much better looking.