Do men speak a different language ? do they hear words that suddenly become Russian coming out of our mouths? do they understand or remember simple things said less than a minute ago… easy peasy requests made in an everyday situation? ”can you feed the dog, please”.

How come they can’t retain anything, other than things like the football results from ten years ago, I am not knocking men, I love them, but when trying to plant info into their brains, something as simple as ‘we need to be leaving at 5pm’ and for the 14th time that day we have to tell them AGAIN the time we are leaving! well it can drive you up the wall….

There was a time when I didn’t notice these tiny problems of communicating with the male species.

In my youth my best bud and I once gate-crashed a party because we heard this delish’ man in the Uni bar telling his friends that’s where he was going next, it was a great evening!  we played ‘hard to get’ mainly because we didn’t actually want to be got!

Those were the years when we fell in love more times than we had hot dinners, literally! and it was hard work, it felt that the more you were ’into’ someone the harder you had to work..!! 

For hours we would sit by our phone, we’d drink copious amounts of black coffee  smoking Marlboros (full strength none of  the wossey ’light’ ones) feeling really cool, playing lots of Leonard Cohen and Janis Ian and discussing the values of that weeks boyfriend, will he, won’t he ring etc etc you can picture the scene and we’d be making up very good reasons why they hadn’t rung so far! I can look back now and the truth was, they were never going to!

And if perchance they did ring, we would absorb all the excuses known to men  ” I have been so busy at work, granny, nephew, niece, aunt, uncle, grandad all just died, made redundant, been promoted, worse of all is the “I have just got out of a long relationship and I just want some fun”…danger signs flashing with that one. IF IT’S SUCH HARD WORK TO GET THAT CALL… STOP WASTING TIME WAITING, MOVE ON TO THE NEXT ONE.

But we came to realize that the less interest we showed the fellas the more interested they were in us, win win.

Don’t misunderstand me, we had some great times during the ‘chase years’, not all doom and gloom…. we once played at being Charlies Angels running through a town we didn’t know very well, with fingers as guns, tossing lots of blond Farah hair and picking out random strangers, the bad guys supposedly after us… the strangers, innocent of our game had no idea why we kept looking over our shoulders at them and hiding behind trees, buildings or cars… we got some very odd looks but sadly not from the hotty we were after!

And now, well I am very happy with my OH. I’d had a lot of fun in finally meeting  ’the one’ and I know I really shouldn’t moan just because he will pop to the shops with a list and come back with random things  (deff  NOT on list) that I am expected to turn into a culinary delight! or the fact that he zones out when I am telling him about the washing machine repair man or the fact that the boiler had packed up…only to ask me seconds later ”why is it so cold in here what’s up with the boiler??”  ARRRRRHHHHH

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