That Time We Clicked

Eight years ago today, I was getting ready to go on what I already hoped would be my last first date.  The boy liked Japanese fiction, beer, and obscure bands and the girl liked all of those things, and the boy, too. Online dating and I were on a break.  Had reached an impasse.  Agreed … Continue reading That Time We Clicked

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The Great Hyphenation

Yesterday marked 99 days until Sarge and I get married. Not long after I realised we are down to double-digits, I shared the countdown on Facebook, and then I read  this article about changing your last name after marriage. Or not. I saw it on a friend's wall (as you do) and posted it on … Continue reading The Great Hyphenation

I Don’t Sleep With My Colleagues

Sarge and I still date. Each other. It’s allowed. And also important. When he’s working late, and I’m not working enough, dating is a way for us to remember what the other one looks like without tired eyes (his) or PMS (mine). These days, our dates are weekend trips to the movies after having coffee … Continue reading I Don’t Sleep With My Colleagues

A Little Friendly Competition

And so, I’m ‘doing’ NaNoWriMo this year. We have always had a strange relationship. Past attempts have seen me bang out 20,000 words and then well, edit them. Note to self and others: Don’t. Do. That. I have a penchant for abandoning projects in favour of others which I think ‘sound better’, and I don’t … Continue reading A Little Friendly Competition

Weekend Wanderings

My weekend begins on Friday, so we’ll start there. I woke up and asked Sarge to make me a coffee. I did so nicely. ‘Can’t (the PA) do it?’ ‘She doesn’t make coffee,’ I said. ‘She pours water into ugliness.’ ‘Fair enough’, he said, turning on the coffee machine. For the rest of the day … Continue reading Weekend Wanderings

Scenes of Minor Peril

Sarge had a Boys' Night on Friday. I may have shut myself up in the office to write, with loud country music on. I may have even forgotten to eat my cheese-centric dinner, reserved for nights Sarge isn't home. I flipped between the very sparse notepad on Sarge's Linux-run computer, last.fm, Facebook and Irene updates. … Continue reading Scenes of Minor Peril

Kissing On The Stairs

I like snow.  When it’s falling outside my window, lit by street lamps and I’m inside, curled up with a book and hot chocolate, I love snow.  When I’m out in snow being pulled backwards and neither eight years old nor on a sled, I turn into a bitch. We went out to run Christmas/birthday … Continue reading Kissing On The Stairs