So I'm wallowing in my depression. I have the phone on the table here and there's no message coming through.
I really wish Paul from last night would call or text. He was just so sweet and nice and beefy.
My house is only about five minutes' drive from his. It's so perfect.
I am also listening to Rod Stewart, who is the best person at times like these, to ease the depression.
He sings:
Are those your eyes?
Is that your smile?
I've been looking at you forever
Yet I've never seen you before
Are these your hands? Holding mine?
Now I wonder how I could have been so blind.
And for the first time, I am looking in your eyes.
For the first time, I'm seeing who you are.
I wanna slow-dance with someone.
Here are five brilliant songs to slow-dance to.
5/ Jealous Guy - Bryan Ferry
"I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry that I made you cry. I'm just a jealous guy." Brilliant.
4/ Air Supply - Making Love Out Of Nothing
Killer 80s ballad and I'm loving it. Aching and desperate, it's perfect.
3/ Rod Stewart - Sailing
This song makes my cry involuntarily, it's just so beautiful. I imagine the video of it would be some really cute guy trying his hardest to get back to the person he so desperately loves, on Christmas Eve or something. I love it.
2/ Coming Around Again - Carly Simon
Her voice is so comforting. This is like do dance to when you want to say "I love you" at the end.
1/ Wish It Would Rain Down - Phil
The king of slow-dances tunes. This song is like the megaload. I want it played at my wedding one day. It easily features in the top five greatest songs of my life.
I have no significant memories attached to it because I don't want to corrupt it with triviality. When I finally meet the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, I will paint this song with those memories. When I hear those first four beats, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. A masterpiece.
Song conspicuously not on list:
Roxette - It Must Have Been Love
Reminds me of school discos, dancing with girls while making shopping lists in my head. Painful.
Okay, that's enough of depressing music.
Can we all please gather and stand in awe of the beauty of Bobby.
No, not me but Bobby Skinstad, the former South African rugby player. This man is a tower of hotness.
Above is Hot Bobby pointing with his finger and below we see Hot Bobby being all fierce on the front of a magazine.
So today Katie, her fiance (who're also out from London on holiday) and I were having lunch and look who came and sat at the table near us. Just look who's in the green T-shirt...
That man is so hot in real life. I wanted to go up and smell / lick / kidnap him.
And finally, because I've mentioned them so many times I had to show you my homies.
For five days a week Elizabeth cleans the house, entertains the dogs and answers our phone.
Say, for example, that our surname was Smith, Elizabeth answers the phone by going "hullo, Smith residence."
And then at the top of her voice she screams "Madam (my mother), it's for you...'
Which it always is and I have never worked out why my mother is so vehemently against answering her own phone.
Then, usually at around 1pm, every day, Elizabeth makes lunch for herself and Herbert. When it's ready Elizabeth will stand on the back step and just scream "Heeeerbeeeeeeeeeert. Heeeeerrbeeeeeeeeeeeeeert" until be comes to get the plate.
If Elizabeth has to stand there for ten minutes screaming his name, that's what she has to do.
For five days a week Herbert skims the pool, moves the hosepipe and smokes funny stuff in bits of rolled up newspaper. Sometimes my mother actually gets him to do gardening stuff like mow the lawn.
Although I've noticed that bizarrely, there's a gardening service that comes on a Wednesday to do that.
Anyway, so Herbert works our garden like an expert from Kew and Elizabeth keeps our house in ship-shape.
Standing there, don't they kinda remind you of these two?
Anyway.
Just incase you were wondering, no he hasn't phoned / texted.
All that listening to ballads means I think I may be over him. Give it 12 hours...
And I really liked him.
Thursday, 6 March 2008
Waiting for the call
Written by Bobby Vanquish at around 20:14
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
10 comments:
Maybe hes just had to seek medical care for the state of nipples and neck after your sandpapering of him?
Fleet: I'm not a kiss-and-tell but...
The groans were the most satisfied when the stubble rubbed.
I like to think that he's dropped his phone down the toilet and he's pining to see me but he doesn't know how to get in touch.
In fact I know that's what he's doing.
Why are you not calling him? I hope it's not that you're afraid of rejection because you already sound like someone who's been rejected. How could it be worse if you called him. Maybe the more likely scenario is that he's home posting to his blog about why you're not calling him.
After I saw the red marks, I got to thinking. To me, whiskers rubbing on me is extremely sensual. In fact, my last tryst hadn't shaved in a couple of days and neither had I. Several times it was whiskers against whiskers and that really revved up my engine.
OK changing subjects...I *heart* Carly Simon! And the song you listed is great.
Sorry he hasn't called and yes, maybe his phone is in the toilet. Have you looked outside to see if he is wandering around looking for you?
PS thanx for the pics of Elizabeth and Herbert. I actually imagined them looking like that (excluding the blurry eyes).
why dont you just go over to his house and hold a boom box up in the air. (sorry i was just watching say anything this weekend)
You know something about that painting. The woman was his sister and he wanted someone to pose as the father but was having problems finding the right person, so he asked his dentist and he said yes. So, that is the painters dentist and sister. Just some trivia for you to lighten your day.
Carl
does your gardener only have one eye?
If he's anything like me, I'm sure he's analyzing the situation even more than you are and thus deciding to wait a few days before calling in order to create the illusion that he is busy. If he's not anything like me, he probably has a much better/less pathetic reason for his actions.
Timmy: I'm slightly ashamed that that's how you imagined Elizabeth and Herbert looked. It's not all some nightmarish WASP cliche you know...:-)
Dick: So over him, man. So. Over. Him.
Carl: Trivia's cool - thanks for that.
Edd.d: Sometimes when I look at the product of what the gardener as done, I think that he has one eye. But actually, he has two.
Richard: Yeah - I got over him. I was bored at the time and I wanted to feel the validation that he wanted me. But I don't care now. You move on, the best goes cold. Next!
If he doesn't like me, he doesn't call and I don't care.
Post a Comment