4 July (part 1)
I call Jessica in a tizz.
‘I don’t understand it. He was super keen… contact, contact, contact. Now nothing.’
‘It is a bit strange.’
‘This has upset me.’
‘I’d text him to find out if I’m going out with him tonight and say I have other plans if not. I’m not saying that’s what you should do.’
‘I’m not contacting him.’
‘No.’
‘If he doesn’t contact you by 12.00pm don’t go out with him.’
‘I’m not going to.’
‘The Old Man texted me last night.’
‘Oh my God!’
‘It’s about the third time. I keep ignoring him.’
‘He must have enjoyed himself.’
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‘When I grow up I’m going to marry a prince, Granny.’
Fast forward 27 years. I’m a hot, successful, kind and affectionate, officially ‘grown up’ girl-about-town. Still in search of The One. It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m in bed. Alone. Tanked up on Valium.
The quest has been active now for the best part of 20 years. I know he’s out there. I just need to find out where and how to find him. Things have got to change.
This is going to be my year. I just know it. So I have decided to document my experiences to amuse more than anything else. In so doing, the creative process may provide some kind of personal enlightenment and help face my demons too. And who knows. The journey may lead me to my prince. And where the chronicles begin.
