For many millions of excellent reasons, I am not internet dating at the moment. But I do have a profile on one of the websites and this afternoon, I received the most lovely email I think a man has ever sent me. Sadly, he is 67 years old. He wrote:
'Oh God, where were you when I was within your age range? I know you weren't actually born. But a good-looking, funny girl who's also a spelling pedant is a rare thing to be treasured! AND you don't get Steve Martin or raw tomatoes - it's too good to be true. Some young man will surely not deserve you. Good luck in your (half-hearted I'm sure) search. A disbarred admirer.'
Makes me wish I was 65 rather than 30...
Right - I'm off to walk the plank in Penzance. I've packed enough tops for several weeks in the Arctic but only one pair of jeans and some really unsuitable pink suede shoes. You'd have thought I'd have learned how to pack by now but, of my very few failings, it's certainly high up on the list. Have a good weekend, one and all.
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