Rubbish Date and Realisation

I would like to add an amendment to the last couple of posts, almost a rebuttal to myself if you will. Having been on a date last night with Mr Boring 2007 I am gratified to acknowledge that I will not in fact just sleep with any old loser that shows interest in me or affection towards me. I do have to be physically attracted to them and identify at least two winning personality traits (most important ones being sense of humour and intelligence). I am not going to dwell on the deadly date (save to say I worked my arse off with the guy and ended up feeling quite cross with him for being conversationally shite) instead I am going to take away the fact that even with a fairly attractive bloke making it obvious he's interested (through the medium of staring at my boobs and offering me more drinks) I was in no way tempted to jump his bones. A small step but a significant one.

I got an email from my last date yesterday which was surprising. After 24 hours with no contact I'd started to believe it was definitely a one night thing (even given the boy time principle). The email was very ambiguous, just mentioning how he'd been hungover after the date and very tired so had an early night the following night so felt better. Oh, and was looking forward to the weekend. He did put a x after his name but to be honest I have no idea whether he's expecting a response or whether it was a strange brush off of some description. Surely though he'd do what men are programmed to do and just not call or email ever again.

I have agreed to Go Clubbing on Saturday night. My housemate, A is a regular and has invited me and our friend F along with her usual crew. Apparently the night will involve everyone coming to ours for junk food and drinks then onto a couple of bars and finally around midnight we will repair to The Hat Club in Kings Cross to throw random shapes in the church of dance. The only thing with The Hat Club is that you have to be wearing a hat to get in. I don't own a hat and the only hats in the shops are summer hats which will look stupid. Next on the agenda: find sexy black trilby in the style of Philip Treacy except only a tenth of the price. I'm not sure my clubbing days aren't completely behind me, the thought of getting home at 8am on Sunday morning fills me with dread. It will either be fabulous or a total disaster but it's too easy to avoid these situations through worry or fear so I've decided it's better to just bung on some comfy ballet pumps, pile on the glittery eye shadow and make the best of it.