Just when I start to think my life is not full of ridiculous coincidence, I have a day like today. I had coffee with Eden in the morning, which was a lot of fun. James, though not believing in Valentines Day had inadvertently bought theatre tickets for that night, so it all worked out well. Afterwards they had a jolly time, except that Eden committed a misdemeanour that would have to rank in the Top Five Bad Moves During Lovemaking :) So we were talking all about sex. I’m a bit like the Mars Rover scientists, or cosmologists studying the Big Bang (no pun intended). I have built an extensive theoretical foundation for good lovemaking by being observant during my all too limited experience. So getting sex advice from me is a bit like getting an English translation from someone who has learned English from movies, then gone to America for a couple of weeks. As we were chatting away in the café, near where Eden lives and I work, who should walk in but Genevieve. After I had identified her out of context (which took some doing), it turned out that she lived nearby as well. We all had a good chat, and Genevieve asked if I was going to Saffron’s wedding on Sunday. Amazingly I am, not because I know Saffron very well or her circle of friends that includes Genevieve, but because I have known the groom since 1979 as our parents have been friends. In fact, I suspect I’ve been invited to accompany my parents. So, here I will be at a wedding, with at least four gorgeous women, (more than) one of whom I’ve flirted with before. What could be holding me back? My mum, perhaps? If I have one dance with one of these girls my mum will be thinking of flowers for the wedding. It would be fair to say I work best (when I work at all) without parental supervision. Whatever happens on Sunday it won’t be dull.

Also Eden told me that Tiff (the ex) had broken up with her boyfriend in July. Hmmmm... just like me a year before. I overheard something in September or October, and was relieved to find out that this guy wasn’t in fact perfect in every way, as it had previously appeared to me. In fact, I didn’t know how widely he is regarded as a bit of a schmuck. That’s not such good news. My fragile ego likes to imagine that people who take a fancy to me have good taste 8-} - so much for that theory. At least he’s good looking. There- I’m glad my ex’s ex is good looking. What is the world coming to?

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

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