the man of my dreams was at the kebab shop tonight. i was there too. we were both eating beef iskender. hello, made for eachother. and lo and behold if my dinner companion strongerlight didn’t start talking, loudly, about my status as a “lesbian”. bearch. anyway, he’s out of my life. he left before i even had a chance to give him the eye.

but i have hope. because on friday one of my oldest and dearest friends gets married. and weddings mean one thing: meeting boys.

i have a new dress. i am wearing it right now. i am practising being saucy. the dress is black wool. and way low cut. one word: clevage. i expect to get proposed to, or at the very least propositioned.

to be honest, i’m not sure about the clevage. is it a bit much? should i wear a slip or something underneath for modesty purposes? i asked my flatmate and she handed me duran duran’s greatest hits on dvd. this reminded me that to pick up hot boys like simon le bon there is no such thing as too much clevage. or body paint. but i wont really bother with the body paint because it may ruin my dress.

i should probably change out of my dress. i don’t want to spill anything on it. but i just can’t. i think this is the greatest dress i have ever owned. this must be how brides feel about their wedding dresses. like the most beautiful girl in the world.