The is-it-or-isn't-it date

I have a bit of a conundrum - tomorrow night I'm meeting a friend for a drink. Or is it a date? I'm totally unsure!

We know each other through mutual friends, but have never really been close friends ourselves. He moved to Cheltenham, just before I moved to Bristol, and although we said we'd stay in contact, he actually has. And then he's followed up on going for a drink. Xmas markets and mulled wine. And how about dinner too?

Is this a date? Or a friendly drink??

I guess it will be a surprise! I get on well with him though, and I'm not averse to seeing how things go, so I'm going into it open-minded. He's fun, he's smart, he's a bit younger than me but very mature, and he dresses well (Geek Chic anyone?) - what's to lose?

Other than that, I'm continuing to find my feet in Bristol. I'm starting to work out where everything is, and the flat's starting to look a little more like home (although there's still a mess of stuff that needs to be put away - surprise, surprise). This weekend I get to play hostess for the first time to my friend B who's coming down for the weekend.

So between the drink with Geek Chic tomorrow, a weekend of girliness with B and still being on tenterhooks to hear from the Vet again (we're still messaging, but not as frequently as I'd like - he's supposedly been working absolutely flat out though, so we'll see what happens now he's a bit quieter), it's a busy old week.

Had a lovely weekend in Brussels - it turns out that after 30 the hangovers get worse - who knew? That aside, I enjoyed spending time with C, who I lived with at uni, and spending time with her friends from the European Parliament and see a bit of what looks like a very pretty city ... hopefully I'll be less hungover next time I get out there!

Never the one you want.

Life is so typical – the Vet won’t call, despite me using my not inconsiderable powers of wishing that he would (oh yeah – that doesn’t work in the Real World does it?), but at least I found the willpower to turn down an invitation from the Boy Wonder last night …. even if it was simply on the grounds that I needed sleep badly.

It’s a bit like buses ….

After months (oh well, let’s be honest, years??) of pretty much zero happening on the man / gossip front, I now seem to be in the midst of a mini-glut.

Yesterday we went for a tour of our new office, and I was surprised, and yes, a little pleased, to clock a guy clocking me. A fiull-on head-to-toe evaluation followed by a proper cheeky grin. This girl’s head was held high as she left the office.

And last night during the drunken carnage of a particularly lively fund-raising event (I’ll set the scene, there were lots of Sambuca shots with a cocktail chaser, and for some reason most of the guys on the dance-floor had lost their shirts ….), I somehow picked up was picked up by a rather tasty vet. A vet who has biceps of steel because he’s the kind of dude who rows across the Atlantic Ocean for charity. No, I’m not actually kidding. Good times ensued.

The only dilemma is that I had to shoot off home early this morning to go and meet my current landlord for a flat inspection, and since the poor lamb was absolutely spark out as I left, I didn’t get his phone number. Alternative means of making subsequent contact are currently being attempted, I can assure you. Those biceps are waaaaaaay too nice to be allowed to get away!

It’s never bloody simple is it?