Monday, April 30, 2007

New flatmate - and it's Scouse Doris

The house is all a-flutter this morning as the oft-beblogged Scouse Doris moves her belongings 9 houses down the street to join me in my apartment, which heralds the end of the stagiaire-flatmate era. I started taking flatmates in 1997 because I caught myself sharing my dinner with the cat and realised that I was turning into one of those self-sufficient bra-hitching cigar-smoking spinsters that have men achieving personal bests in the Great Escape Steeplechase and I couldn't be doing with that. Over the years having flatmates has hopefully brought me adaptability and negotiating skills that could come in useful if ever Cupid's arrow actually stuck for more than five minutes. He needs to use something with a point to it (wow, that works on so many levels) and at the moment all he's actually using is suckers.

It's been fun having a new bright young thing in the house every five months or so, I've learned a little Italian and Spanish and German and Swedish and I've made a whole bunch of friends. But now it's me who's thinking of travelling, mid-term at least, and I want to leave the apartment in the hands of someone stable and permanent. How much nicer for that person to be Scouse Doris, fellow sci-fi fan, gastronome, and seeker after knowledge. Our differing libraries alone will keep us in after-dinner conversation for years. The only danger will be that it might turn into one long party. We have decided to impose an alcohol ban when we're home together without guests. I have a strong suspicion there'll be a lot of people dragged in to dinner.

Speaking of dinners and guests, the Mrs. T's blog competition is still open. By all accounts, Tippler has found her blog, but as he has not as yet vouchsafed its URL unto me, he can still be beaten to it. Until I get the address, the dinner remains unclaimed.

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