Selling your friends

I'm not going to mention the dreaded R word today, but the upcoming situation has made me take stock of all aspects of my life, not just my job - or lack of it.

Thinking back to a few weeks ago, I was all excited about the Speed Dating event and the unlikely hope that it might bring a bit of Man Candy into my otherwise super exciting* life. That resulted in NO DATES WHATSOEVER and with the only other hunk on the horizon being Mr Sexy Delicious - who is clearly uptight about his 'seshuality' - I am still single and still actively looking.

But the point is, I'm not actually looking at all.

To remedy this, I have spoken with my friend Lady Eliza - the girl who wears pearls and brooches - and she might have solved my problem. She knows of a dating website where instead of writing a profile about yourself telling everyone that you have a 'GSH' and that you're looking for 'possible 121' - not that I've ever used one myself, you understand - you put a profile on there about a single and fabulous friend to try and get them a date.

It sounds genius to me. Rather than having to try to sum myself up in 100 words and ending up coming across like a prize twat, she gets to do it for me. And thinking about it, it's always much easier to compliment your friends than it is to point out your own good qualities, so this could be something quite brilliant.

I practically bit her finger off when she mentioned it, so now I am just waiting for her to put on a glittering critique, telling all the lovely Mo's out there what a great catch I am.

And she'd better make it good. Lady Eliza, if you're reading this, remember all the help** I gave you when you were doing your finals?

Make it good, baby - I need to get me a man!



* super exiting life = mediocre existence
** help = rewriting all of her essays