For reasons I will never quite understand, December 11 this year proved to be quite a popular day for parties. I was invited to 6 different events on this day, and so I considered it doing very well to narrow it down to simply two. I skipped my running club Christmas party and some Oxford 10 drinks in favour of going to my friend Cornelia's birthday party being held at the club, and told my friends Andy and Florie that I would make it to their party later in the evening.
The day began with a squash game at the club, as Doro and I had agreed to meet for a game of squash at the club at 10 AM. I really had to drag myself up to get out there, dragging myself with my hacking cough, but it was actually a really good thing to do, as the exercise was great and we had a blast running around and whacking the ball. We should definitely do that more often.
I then went home and went right back to bed for a few hours, in an attempt to give my body some rest and a chance to recover. But in the evening I had to get up and get all dolled up to go out for dinner at the club. Wore a deep plum-coloured dress I hadn't worn yet before, as I think it was actually a nice occasion to get it out for.
I arrived at the club, and found everyone downstairs for dinner, so joined folks in champagne and conversation. Sat down to dinner, and had an amusing conversation with Sophie's fiancee, who was not at all what I had expected. After she'd said she was dating a guy in Switzerland, and had gotten a boob job for him, I was surprised to meet a somewhat pudgy Englishman who apparently had a kid in the UK that he flew back to visit every so often. She sounds quite happy with him, but I was still amused at how he didn't fit my stereotype expectations at all.
Dinner took a great turn right at the start, when one of the chaps pressed the couple to make their happy announcement, that rather than getting married in the summer of 2012, they had just gotten married that morning! So we were now no longer at a birthday party, but a wedding reception! And the reason for the quick wedding was even lovlier, as apparently they were pregnant! Suddenly all of their cuddling and happy appearance at their flat-warming party two months ago made much more sense, as they had probably conceived right around that time.
I also ended up having a funny conversation with the groom, who revealed that he'd been sitting with S at the grouse dinner in September, where he'd brought along a blonde bimbo (a classic "Essex girl", the groom said, and I knew exactly what he meant). I remember I'd been surprised at the time, as I'd just met S the night before and we seemed to click amazingly well, but then the very next night here he was with a girlfriend (or so I assumed). S and I barely spoke that night.
Turns out, there had been some mess-up on S's place card, as apparently he uses his middle name and not his first name. But the Essex girl, his date, apparently knew him sooooooo well that she kept using the name on his place card, and not the name everybody calls him! Apparently he was horribly embarrassed by this girl, the bride and groom couldn't stop laughing about his disastrous date, and I apparently have judged him overly harshly, as she wasn't his girlfriend at all but rather a girl he barely knew. He'd obviously invited her before he'd ever met me, and so although he probably might have preferred to continue our association that night, he'd been stuck playing host to some Essex girl.
I don't know if I'm thinking about S so much more recently simply because Doro put it into my head, or if there's really something there. I find him attractive, there's no question of that. He's tall, I love the wildman hair and beard, always looking like a bit of an animal raging to break free of his suit and tie, yet equally looking so comfortable and confident dressed to the nines. But mostly it's those blue eyes. I could get lost in those blue eyes, they're so bright and startling, and they always have a twinkle to them.
Yet, I have my concerns. By my best calculations, he is 5 years younger than I am. I worry that he will be inconstant, too prone to playing around and just being a young man. Yet, weirdly of all things, I just saw a photo of Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon, and realised that she's over 10 years older than her beau, yet they appear to be perfectly happy together. Hence, I think I will try hard to judge S on his own merits, and not his age. He may indeed turn out to be too much of a player, but perhaps he's actually just a good guy looking for the right girl. I should be open-minded, at the very least.
Finally, at around 11:30 PM, everyone started to disband, and I finally saw my opportunity to leave (however ridiculously late). So without saying a proper good-bye, I raced outside, flagged down a cab, and directed him to Notting Hill Gate. I'm not quite sure exactly how the cab driver and I got to talking, but as he realised I was heading from one party to another, we got into a discussion about living the single life, and him wondering what he might have missed out on, given that he met his wife at 16 and married her at 18. (He was now 52, and they apparently have 10 grandchildren, which he showed me a picture of). I told him what I tell everyone: That this life is extraordinarily fun right now, and if I should manage to still squeak in under the wire, marry and have kids by the time I'm 40, I'll think I've done it exactly right. But if this is still my life when I'm 40, I should be sad, in which case I will think that he has done better to marry at 18. Interesting discussion.
I arrived at Andy and Florie's at midnight, and almost worried that the party might be over, but on the fourth time I rang the doorbell, Andy let me in. The party was definitely winding down, but there were still quite a few folks there, so I had a good time coming in and chatting with everyone. To my surprise, I wasn't even the last arrival, as two American guys arrived after me! One was actually cute in that he reminded me tremendously of the silly boy, and we got to talking in a way that made it clear he was interested if he got any encouragement. However as he talked, he sounded INCREDIBLY American (he said "dude", a lot), it kind of bothered me and I lost interest. So when we re-arranged ourselves to sit down on the floor for a bit, I didn't bother to make sure I sat near him. So that pretty much was the end of that. After they left, the hostess shared my opinion that he was cute but way too American, and then laughed at my assessment that I'm just not that attracted to American guys. Good thing I left the country, I guess...
Had a good time chatting with everyone until it was finally REALLY time to go home, so at 2:30 AM I left and grabbed a night-bus, and was home by 3 AM. Good result for the evening!
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