janemillicent

I have just returned from a weekend in Canberra, ostensibly intended as a reconnaissance mission to check the well being of my younger brother who has just moved there.

On Saturday we had coffee with Steven (I had to explain how we knew each other to my brother afterwards which was pretty funny, well at least he thought it was pretty funny). As I expected my brother and Steven are into similar music and they happily talked music while I used the time to do what I do best, which is think about shoes.

I then went to the art gallery to meet up with a boy I know. We spent a nice afternoon at the gallery, had coffee, he showed me around Canberra and we went to dinner at an Italian restaurant together. The night ended with us both perched politely at either end of his couch discussing everything from econometrics and literature to soccer until one in the morning.

Since I have found myself perched politely at the opposite end of a couch having long fascinating conversations with a couple of boys recently I am left wondering what the fuck it is that is wrong with me.

Do I wear an enormous Miss Marple suit visible only to straight men?

Do I give off some sort of spinster aroma?

Would I have more chance of some nice boy making a move on me if I dyed my hair red?