Oh l’amour


Name that Tune: “Another man would’ve been angry, another man would’ve been hurt, but another man never would have let her go” – Taxi, Harry Chapin

Movie Quote of the Day: ‘Who knew that in between bake sales, my mother was Anaïs Nin?’ – Bridges of Madison County

So, I found myself the other evening on MSN, dispensing love advice to an online friend.
What possessed me, of all women, to consider herself qualified to dole out wise words on affairs of the heart is a mystery that I can only assume had something to do with the 3rd glass of Chardonnay & the effects of listening to too much Take That. (My sister & I have got tickets to see them in June so I thought I better clue myself up on some of their latest work).
A million loves songs later indeed!
My list of unrequited passions is formidable and therefore a merciful relief that I did not appeal to the tastes of the many objects of my teenage affection, many of whom prematurely aged into bearded balding bloaters, whilst I on the other hand have bloomed into a strikingly attractive late thirties glamourpuss (chokes quietly on glass of wine LOL). The most glamorous thing I have done lately is washed my fleece! Although I did actually blow-dry my barnet yesterday which is a rare occurrence these days! The ‘G’ Factor has been sadly lacking these last couple of years, in fact I’m not entirely sure where it went, though I suspect I may have mislaid it in a bush somewhere one enchanted drunken evening…
I do still adore the killer heels but I don’t actually wear them that often. Methinks I need a night on the town. Pick a town, any town & Ill be there & I promise to leave the fleece at home. 🙂

Anyhoo, my friend, who shall remain anonymous, is suffering the trauma of unrequited love, and I do not envy anyone that. The agony of being in love with someone who does not return your affections? No thanks! There’s a reason why this subject matter is the base ingredient of a thousand slushy novels & films, the only thing possibly worse, apart from death (lol) would have to be the tragedy of 2 people being in love who cannot be together for whatever reason – star crossed lovers & all that.

Doubtless I will get to go through all this with my daughters when we get to the ‘boys’ stage and I shall be able to wax lyrical on agonies of the heart and dish out clichés such as; “He’s not good enough for you anyway” and “It’s his loss” and “time is a great healer” blah blah di blah and I’m in no doubt that they will take no notice of any of their old mum’s advice whatsoever – why would they listen to the ramblings of some dried up old bird who couldn’t possibly know anything about such things. 😉


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