Listening to Sad FM, easy listening for the over-30s...

Well, hello there!

I thought I would use the opportunity of this little postette to, quite crudely I might add, paraphrase my most apposite film* heroine:

* the Bridget-in-the-book is just as worthy though my word I'm in trouble if 9 and a half stone is what's considered overweight these days...

Regrettably, I have now passed "my 32nd year of being single" -- harrumph -- and without so much as a Cleaver or a Darcy in sight, but my goodness I spent a good part of 2011 trying to rectify that as well you lovely (pair of) readers know. And as I think I mentioned in my previous post I came to the conclusion (that I suspect I was driving at from the first moment I gave someone a Nudge on QuirkersAnonymous) that this quirkster is not cut out for the internet dating malarkey. (Which is ever so slightly unfortunate when you've committed to writing a dating blog.)

BUT! Not so long ago, when I was younger and braver (before my friends all coupled off, copulated and duly produced offspring as normal adults are wont to do) I made a resolution of sorts with my best friend to accept every invitation in an attempt to broaden our social circles. Make More Friends.

Which was a noble ambition in theory.

In practice it was... anecdotal. The first -- and only -- invitation we accepted was to the flatwarming of a friend of a relative of mine, someone said relative had unsuccessfully tried to set me up with previously. He was a nice enough chap but chinks appeared in his suspect armour of cool the moment we arrived at his party to find all his other friends (who were all very earnest monetary types) standing in a circle not unlike one might find at a cult gathering (we imagined).

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The fun then got up and left when the host freaked out over quiche crumbs on the floor and got out the dustpan and brush... and my friend and I received all manner of odd looks from People who Clearly Don't Respect John Hughes as we shrieked "Judd Nelson! Breakfast Club!" the moment Don't You Forget About Me rocked out on the stereo. We took our cue to leave shortly after, waving goodbye to our host ... and the hawge graduation portrait (of himself) hung above the fireplace.

Bless.

He's now married with two children. And I'm not. I try not to think about that too much.

...I had a point.

Oh yes. Last time the Accept All Invitations Resolution was acted upon it was of questionable success. But I'm older now, wiser and considerably braver. (And marginally more desperate but let's not go there.) In the past I've shot myself in the foot by passing on invites and subsequently painting myself as a veritable Miss Havisham

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sadly more of this ilk than this:

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in social terms, hiding myself away in a figurative attic (third-floor flat, will that do?) and Keeping to Myself. Well, no more, I have vowed. Or at least given myself a thorough talking-to on this matter.

And dear reader/s, my Determination to Get Out More has already reaped rewards -- why, just before Christmas, I went out for drinks with my choir buddies and Spoke to Men. And was subsequently added as a Friend on Facebook by Men.

Quirky Brunette is a social pariah no more.

Happy New Year!

qb xx