Cigarettes Smoked: 3
Alcoholic Drinks: 2
Films Cried At: 1
Slept over at Mother’s and stayed for Sunday dinner. This involved more awkward conversations with my always overenthusiastic Jewish mother.
‘Are there many gay Jews in Leeds, son?’
‘I don’t know, Mother.’
‘Isn’t there a Shul you can all go to?’
‘Probably not, Mother.’
‘You could set up your own Jewish gay men’s support group.’
‘I don’t need support.’
‘But you do need a nice young man.’
‘I’m fine, Mother. I’m not a salt shaker. I can manage just fine without the pepper pot.’
‘Well when you do find some pepper, make sure it’s Jewish.’
‘I don’t think pepper needs to be kosher.’
Etc. She’s more obsessed with my quest for a man than I am. She’s also much more restrictive in her criteria.
Meanwhile, I thought really hard about how I’m going to get Receptionist Boy to notice me. I’ve been toying with the idea of sprucing up my wardrobe. Maybe investing in espadrilles. I see there’s something of a fashion for wearing them without socks. Then again, maybe not.
Cath helped me pick out a sexy shirt and tie to wear at work tomorrow and helped me prep my first draft report for meeting with new clients tomorrow. I just kept thinking about Receptionist Boy. Who said Sundays had to be unproductive?
Spent the rest of the day relaxing and watching films with Aiden and Cath. Drank some leftover champagne (moderately flat) and ate salted pretzels (decided I’ve gone off them, after all). Another healthy evening!
Watched Toy Story 3 and cried like a little girl. So embarrassed.