31 December
It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m out with new girlfriend from work having a ball! We’re at Amuse Bouche on Parson’s Green Lane dancing around, drinking Champagne, all eyes on us.
Rich Indian texts with a round robin new year’s message.
‘I’m not going to respond,’ I tell her.
‘No don’t. He’s a man. He’s in for the chase.’
A very cool girl I meet in the loos introduces me to a very hot guy upstairs. A very hot black guy.
What is it with black guys? Have you seen that hilarious Chris Rock sketch about black guys and white girls? Well, it rings true. After chatting me up all night I spot him later holding hands with a short, fat, pikey minger.
Happy New Year!
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About
‘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.
