My nose and eyebrows have been hurting yesterday and today. Eyebrows because I was plucking them— they’ve started going the way of John Howard’s eyebrows and all I can do is to be eternally vigilant. The best explanation for the nose hurting is over-enthusiastic snogging on Sunday night. And it’s a good story so I’ll stick with it, and revel in my slightly sore nose.

Here’s a little background on my romantic life, without which tonight will not make much sense. Normally you, dear reader, only see what’s on-stage romantically, as it were. There’s not time to detail everything else. Or maybe it’s like an iceberg. Get on with it Josquin. Anyway, at the start of last year I met Marion, a friend of Sarah, one of the three women I have properly been in love with in my life. We always got on well, and I quite liked her. And unless she’s being super-duper friendly she seems to like me. But she’s a little geeky (I know, absolutely nothing wrong with that), which means if there’s someone a little more glamorous around, or the prospect of getting back with Tiff, she can drift out of my consciousness. And for some reason I can’t really explain the formality of a date never seemed appropriate. With Marion I’ve often thought of having a couple of beers at a party and kissing her, and letting it progress from there. Hopefully this is because I’m bad at making moves on dates and don’t want to mess things up before anything happens. Lately I’ve been getting to know her a bit better, and have been finding out that I’m quite interested in her areas of geekness. A week ago I had an impromptu lunch with her and our very amusing friend Roger, and found out some more interesting thing. And on Sunday I was invited to a dance by Sarah (Sarah and Marion are good dancers, me passable) on Friday. Here’s the perfect opportunity— wait for a slow dance and try and kiss her. Could there be a simpler plan?

So this plan has been etching itself in my brain for a couple of days. Unless the context is extremely casual (like Sunday night), my brain takes romance so seriously that if an opportunity presents itself, my stupid brain will think too much and I won’t get around to making a move. Growing up in the 80s when people were constantly talking about sexual harassment has probably led me to be too cautious in general. Of course I know that any girl worth making a move on should be able to refuse graciously, but that’s not in the forefront of my mind when the time comes to sally forth. But a reason is not an excuse.

So I’ve been mentally preparing myself for a bit Friday night. Tonight I was conducting a rehearsal and arrived very early to set up. Who should arrive ten minutes before everyone else but Marion? By chance or design I know not. So for my part it was a tricky ten minutes being especially pleasant in preparation for Friday night. She has a very intense gaze. I didn’t feel too bad about not doing anything, because someone else could have arrived at any time, and my brain is still in preparation mode for Friday night. I have a good feeling about Marion— if I can work out the right approach we could get on really well. Eden doesn’t like her, but she’ll have to learn to live with it.

Gratuitous show-off section
I swam a kilometre today before 7:30am. I’ll sleep like a baby tonight, and this time won’t have the alarm going in the middle of a particularly interesting dream. Sigh... so few of my dreams get beyond G-rated :(

Here’s an interesting entry I’ve been reading by .

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