'A kiss is just a pleasant reminder that two heads are better than one.' - Anon

This month I have mostly been having lots of kisses with a new boy! This may not sound like much of a story, but I should fill you in with some context. After splitting from my Mr Big last Xmas, my 2010 consisted mainly of typical break-up mental anguish; a long running "will-we-or-won't-we-get-back-together" saga; a LOT of alcohol and several displays of inappropriate behaviour, including a summer spent stringing along The Artist and The Bouncer simultaneously. Not my proudest moments, but self destructive behaviour tends to be (dare I say it?) quite a lot of fun. Heck, at least I got a few amusing photo albums out of the experience.

Pat knows what she's talking about.

Anyhow, once I finished my little pity party I gave myself a little pep talk and told everyone who would listen that I was quite happy to fly solo for a while, thank you very much, and I would not be requiring the company of any males to come along and mess with my delicate little brain. So what do I do the first girly night out I have once I decide this? I somehow find myself a date. After a pretty standard DG display of peacocking, I turn around and lock eyes with The Scotsman, who appears to find my drunken body-popping skills deeply alluring. Two super-hot blind(ish) dates later, I officially have a Romeo: after months of psyching myself up for a solo Valentine's day crying into a bag of Minstrels in my jammies, I instead found myself cosied up in bed with a new man, watching a DVD and sipping chilled Pinot Grigio. Got to love life's little ironies. The Scotsman has strong arms, a lovely soft beard, eyes that laugh and an accent that makes my wibble wobble.... ahh yes, I am quite enamoured with my current crush.

I love how this relationship business plays out you know, it never ceases to amuse me. I am convinced that Jebus created the concept of love under the guise of procreation, whilst having a little laugh to himself knowing how much enjoyment He's going to get out of watching us all run around like idiots.  Trust me, I have had my fair share of long-term commitment, of future plans involving rings and babies and mortgages, of investing everything you have in another person just for it all to go to shit. You build up this beautiful and exciting tower of potential together, only for a door to slam shut somewhere, it all comes falling down around you and all that's left is two miserable people looking at each other, wondering what the hell just happened. Isn't it awful!! But the important thing to realise is that it's ALL OK. It doesn't matter how jaded someone could be, how badly they've been hurt in the past, how cynical they are about the concept of lurve; all it takes is to have a spark, a positive connection with a chance encounter, and it all goes straight out the window; you are reborn baby, and ready for action :)

Lord knows what will eventually happen with my Scotsman; it could all be over in a month, he could be the love of my life, we could end up having a few illegitimate children together and start a family folk group. Stranger things have happened, and I thrive on the delicious anticipation of waiting to see how it all pans out, not just for us, but for my life in general: it's a successful primetime soap and I'm the lead character. Drunken Grape Meets Scotsman is just this month's running storyline: my plan is to soak it all up as much as possible, before reality sets in and he realises that the seemingly laidback, fun-loving, straight-talking brunette he has been concentrating so much of his energy on is in fact just as batshit-crazy as the rest of the female population. *cue manic laughter...*