James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James, James.
My best friend informs me that this is what have been spouting over the last week. She may well be right. Things are going very well. I am not one to kiss and tell.
But I will make an exception.
We met last Friday. It was amazing. He wore a suit and he is MUCH better looking than I imagined. Fancy that! A man I met on the internet! Good looking! Hahahaha...
Anyway, he took me to some posh champagne bar in SoHo. Stupidly expensive but gorgeous. We talked and drank and talked and drank and then I began slurring and decided to stop drinking. By this time I was rather sloshed. Oh, he is such a hottie, he makes me talk like a school girl. Hense 'Hottie'....ergh, where has my vocabularly gone.
He walked me to the tube, and we said goodbye like old friends. Very gentlemany - kissed my hand (maybe a bit sleazy, but ultimately quite romantic). *Sigh*
Hubby is not getting a look in at the moment. I don't feel very guilty. The other day I left the kitchen to put my feet up, and he stared longingly back at the sink over my shoulder until I gave in and returned to finish the dishes. Sod.
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