Sunday, 13 December 2009


was my first Christmas party of the festive season. The theme was awful Christmas jumpers, so there was a spectacular array of vintage 80's offerings, ranging from the knitted to the appliqu├ęd to the actual homemade - good efforts all round. One attendee had actually glued one of those fabric advent calendars with little pockets for chocolates to the front of his crew shirt. The pockets were filled with Celebration chocolates, wrapped in bits of paper with forfeits on them. My forfeit read, "Pull a cracker" - i.e. have a kiss under the mistletoe with another unsuspecting partygoer. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, it wasn't a party of the pulling variety, and the majority of the men were either (a) married, or (b) gay. And besides, my heart belongs to another cracker. Lovely G has been sending me pointless texts, which gives me hope that he might quite like me - the logic being that he'll send an unprovoked text saying something like, "having fun?" just for the thrill of getting my sparkling and witty reply. OK, maybe not, but I have hopes. Fingers crossed.



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