140709 It never rains..............

So…………………finally another instalment.

What happens when you’ve got at least three paths in front of you and you don’t know which one to follow?

For ages I procrastinated, rightly, over the best course of action for the weekend. Is it a leaving do, a hedonistic party, a haircut and headache, Sunday dinner and a gig and some choreography, or is it djing at a club night, going VIP to a digital festival, a carnival and then some shopping?

Dear readers, it is………………the latter! Oh how we love the latter!

Hungry for it, I prowled around like a wildcat looking for mischief on the Friday………..near but a nada. Cycling home wobbly-legged and bruised-kneed from a Michael-Jackson-off, at least I’d been in the night air.

So the digital festival. I arrive alone, but immediately spot an ex moodily loitering in a doorway. I pick up my pass to the festival and settle down to some plastic-enhanced red wines in the rain.

Hiding in the gardens and smoking the good stuff with old mates, I get back to the venue and there is another ex, alone at the bar. She pounces - he’s on a stag do but has lost the other lame-legged beasts and chooses to prance about with me (the stag is also an ex). Propping myself up at the bar in my designer tracksuit bottoms, socks and high heels, another ex comes and stands next to us. Night of the exes indeed, but all good.

At one point, raving away to squarepusher I wonder if I’ve lost it all………what happens if my luck is up?

No, dancing on a table to Billy Jean I realise I’ve scored. I get extremely confused as I’m sure I ordered another option from the menu earlier, but accept my fate and drag him home. We play guitar, drink vodka and dribble about, then share a fluid and intense sexual experience in my bed – which, this time, has yet to be christened.

Too light, he departs at 9am, and I am left feeling satisfied and just, I won’t ponder over this one…

Well by the end of the day I had decided I was in love, and that maybe we should do something about it. A stranger had come up to us in the pub, declaring:

‘I’ve seen it before you two. Sort it out!’  Excellent stuff, and there’s a song in there somewhere.

Deciding that the 09 summer run may finally have begun, I cruise the interweb for new recruits, changing my profile to ‘brighton’, reasoning there must be a lot less men, therefore a lot more chance of hand-picking the best.

£25 down, and I’ve secured a date with one who looks promising. Problem is, I’ve secured near-on a bouteille de vin rouge as well.

So today I was rough as old rope, and returning to work I become more and more engrumped, and arrive home drenched, exhausted, and expecting to call it off.

But no, like a true soldier I keep the date.

He’s nice, and I’ve decided I want the real deal, so gotta keep my mind open….

The song so far begins, ‘internet date, big mistake’. But I think he likes me.

During the modest sups of booze I get a text saying I’ll be singing with groove armada on Sunday. Result. Things are looking up – oh, he’s still here?

Pop by Somerfield for an egg sandwich on my way home, and whilst retrieving my demon of a bike, two decidedly dodgy drug-fiends get out of a 4 by 4.

‘ooooooo shame you’ve got your bike, I’d have given you a lift home’, says the more stoned, rougher looking one. The boggle-eyed teenager just gawps at me.

She’s still got it, by jove, she’s still got it xx