The Great Pumpkin

Wondering why we've been so quiet this month? This is why. I've had a great month, and I've done a lot of exciting things, but sadly, a man isn't one of them. I've done something much more important though, and that's make some really awesome friends. So now that I've filled up my contact list, it's time to fill up this massive bed. Bring it on, November!

SUPERKING

As I mentioned before, my new room in my new flat is pretty big, as is my bed. King-sized big. Although, as I had to learn the hard way, it's not king-sized in the UK, it's SUPERking! On my first day here, I had to buy some sheets. I went to the store, found a king-sized fitted sheet, and brought it home, only to find out it didn't fit. Turns out, the UK system is different from the US system of classifying bed sizes. They have double, but what we call a queen, they call a king, and what we call a king, they call superking, which sounds more like it should be fighting crime in a Marvel comic. Therefore, the only queen you'll find here is Her Majesty, The Queen, whose stamp is everywhere, even on the bottle of Heinz ketchup. That came from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Also frustrating was grocery shopping for ingredients to make whoopie pies and being unable to find powdered sugar only to discover that instead of powdered or confectioner's sugar, they call it icing sugar here.  But I digress.

My bed is huge. It's so big, that I haven't found the need to purchase a nightstand yet. Why? Because I can just put my book, glasses and alarm (aka my phone) in a corner of my bed. I have so much space, I won't roll over and crush them. This is not a problem. It's great, in fact, as I like to spread myself out while I sleep. It's great until I wake up in the morning and realize that my glasses are all the way over on the opposite side of the bed, and there is absolutely nothing between us except a huge, empty expanse of chocolate colored sheets from Argos. Nothing. Just me. Alone. In my bed fit for a superking.

Obviously, I'm anxious to put a superking in my superking bed, but obviously I don't want to come off as desperate. I don't want to come up with a man-trapping plan (unless you can think of a really good one), because as I'm in this exciting city of 7 million people, I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing. Going to class and the library, hanging out with new friends in the student bar, going out on the weekends, and meeting new people practically everyday. As long as I keep an open-mind, things will just happen. I mean, I do have the best legs in London, right? But I don't know how much patience I have before I need to concoct a Plan.

Parental preppin'

My (and Violet's) parental units are visiting this weekend. This will be the first time they've visited since I've lived in Boston and I've spent the evening preparing for the occasion. I don't have a special boy to introduce them to or anything (nor can I tell you about introducing them to a special boy) so I feel like I have to make up for it by impressing them with my daily life. You know impress them with my "big city life" i.e. my little apartment, my huge workplace, my easy navigation of public transportation, and my cultured taste for ethnic food (where Violet and I are from, the only "ethnic" food is a Chinese buffet and that doesn't count because they also serve chicken nuggets). So this is what I've been doing this evening:

1. Cleaning. Obviously. Some people may not notice dust but those some people are not my parents. Ok, so it's not just dust, my room usually looks like a closet threw up in it. And to be honest, I've lived here 7 months now and I still haven't figured out where to put some things. I'm sure my mom will have several opinions on that subject. She's ever so helpful *eyeroll*
2. Grocery shopping. Can't really say what I've been eating this week. I think mostly apples/applesauce (I went apple picking last weekend). I'm guessing that the parentals won't be too crazy about that idea. Also, I don't want them eating all my apples!
   
3. Emailing the roommates. Partly to warn them, partly to beg them to not be giant drunken slutbags this weekend. You think it would be a given, seeing that I rarely have guests over and these happen to be my parents, that maybe they should stay low-key or if nothing else, go elsewhere. It shouldn't be too much to ask, but that would be giving them too much credit. So I specifically asked that they have a low-key weekend and even "paid them off" by taking on all the chores this week. This better work because if I overhear sex moans while sitting on the sofa with my mother I will 1. kill them and 2. immediately escort my parents to the nearest hotel without making eye contact with either of them, yet possibly have to stay with them because I'll be a wanted felon.
4. Hiding things. So I know I'm an adult and all but my mother has a tendency to get into things. Not really sure how she does it (I hope to inherit this gift) but say if there were some, um, personal items in your dresser drawer she'll somehow come across these, um, items within the first 10 minutes of her visit. And that's not really something I want to experience. That being said those condoms in my nightstand now have a new home. (On a side note I've realized those condoms expire in December and I find myself hoping against hope that I will have a reason to use them before then. Come. On!) One thing I will not be hiding is my "Condoms don't protect the heart" sticker. It was a gift from my mum, afterall.

So I'm all prepared to be visited by my parents. We're going biking on the Cape (thankfully they still have a mini-van so they can bring up their bikes, rearview mirrors, spedometers and all...dorks), stopping by my lab, and eating at a Shabu/Japanese place (I may have to bring them forks in my purse). If you're wondering how many times they'll bring up Violet and her ACTUAL BOYFRIEND, my guess is as good as yours (but I'm leaning towards 7). Happy Friday, everyone!

It's not raining men, it's just raining

I was watching TV in my pyjamas this morning while the rain poured down outside, when for the first time this year I saw the classic 'holidays are coming' Coca-Cola commercial- you all know the one. So of course that got me thinking about the holidays and how it's still far too early for Christmas stuff, which then got me thinking about being single during the holidays. This turned out to be a dangerous trail of thought. On the one hand, I'm not too bothered about being single at the moment. It's only being four months since my ex and I broke up. I do get lonely sometimes but I've far too many other things going on at the moment, dating and getting to know someone would just be a bit too much bother at the moment. But on the other hand, the more I thought about it, the more I realised that my healthy break from dating and relationships is soon going to turn into a severe dry spell. You may think this is a bit of an over reaction but, trust me, the signs of a long dry spell are all there:

1. I haven't shaved my legs in quite awhile (in my defence, I'm quite fair-haired so my legs don't look gorilla like or anything!) My reasoning? It's winter. They're covered up and I'm the only one who sees them bare.
2. My make-up routine in the morning involves lip gloss and maybe a bit of eyeliner. I'm not saying women need make-up to look attractive, but let's be honest, it helps a bit and it does make me feel more attractive. If this makes me shallow then so be it, I blame advertising.
3. My television schedule is just perfect! FlashForward, The Apprentice USA, The X-Factor, etc. I don't want any man coming along and making me watch football (soccer) whilst he shouts at the screen.
4. I prefer staying in to watch my above TV schedule then actually making an effort to get all dressed up to go out- thus drastically cutting my chances of meeting eligible men.
5. I have reverted back to my strange sleeping patterns. I am, by far, one of the worst people to share a bed with. I hog the duvet- involves wrapping myself in it and there isn't room for anybody else. I also take up most of the bed, which is fine except when there's somebody else in it- I push them out. This caused some problems with my ex. So in the year that we were together I trained myself not to be so greedy. Now though, I can sleep diagonally and wrap the duvet around me to my heart's content- and I love it!
6. I have also reverted back to being a bit of a slob...I'm a bit lazy when it comes to tidying up, putting clothes away, etc. I used to make the effort. Now, who cares? Who else shares my room? Answer: nobody.
7. I haven't been 'chatted up' as the saying goes for....an extremely long time. I can't even think of the last time. (The guy that I was chatting to the night of the drunk dial really doesn't count, he was making sure I didn't drunkenly walk into the path of an oncoming car or something equally stupid.)
8. In order to get out of a dry spell, you have to make a bit of effort and start dating. I have never dated. I don't know how to date. An embarrassing confession yes, and one for another blog entry, but without dating the dry spell will remain, but I'm too scared to do the dating thing. 'Tis a vicious circle.
9. My ex-boyfriend being such a jerk has meant I now have so many dealbreakers that the chances of meeting any guy who gets through the vetting process is slim to none. Another vicious circle.
10. And just to round this list off on the number 10...trust me, I know this is going to be a long dry spell, I feel it in my bones.

So as you can see, from the above signs it's clear that a.) I'm far too set in my ways at the moment to start seeing guys again, let alone let one into my bed and allow them use of the television remote b.) I'm not putting the effort in to date because I don't know where to start and c.) the signs of interest from guys are non-existent.

So what do I do now? My answer would be John Cusack movies, pyjamas and ice-cream. I'm guessing all of you will have a different answer. Which is fine. I'm open to options, goodness knows I need them. But I'm not giving up my tv remote, not matter what you say.