So Bubs and I are walking along in Camden looking for somewhere cheap and cheerful to grab a bite to eat with a pew to discuss possible areas for us to move to. I have been worried for some time now that perhaps I am incapable of truly loving someone in that all-consuming, passionate way that I so long for and it has been playing on my mind heavily of late.

We are crossing the road having espied a suitable place, and at this juncture it pops out,
“Bubs, what happens if everyone has a quota of romantic love to spend in their lives, and I’ve used all of mine up?”
Bubs looks at me and in that way of hers that is so wise beyond her years (and a little concerned) and says something along the lines of,
“There can’t be such a thing and besides if there was, there’s no way you’ve used yours up. If there was a God that would be such an evil thing to do, giving people love quotas.”
“Yeah so maybe there isn’t a God?” I quip.
And here she absolutely canes me with her quick-witted thinking,
“So then there can't be any quotas then ‘cos if there were, there would have to be someone or something dishing them out and checking when you’ve used yours up.”

Phew!
Thanks to Bubs quick thinking, we narrowly averted another love crises in my life!

Just goes to show that sometime there's no need for Superheroes in your life.

I watched the tail end (Is there such a thing as a tail beginning?!) of a documentary about Fuck buddies tonight. I’ve always thought it’s an interesting concept but have never quite figured out whether anyone, male or female, is capable of having no strings attached sex without any repercussions or a whole suite of matching emotional baggage.

Let’s start at the very beginning (a very good place to start), with the great constitution that is the one night-stand. You get to have a bit of how’s your father, sneak out very early the next morning in various states of undress and, here comes the bonus material, never see the person ever again. Because let’s face it, there were, most probably severe amounts of alcohol, lack of inhibitions and false confidence that you were the greatest lover in the world. Who in their right minds would want to go back, I mean after all, that’s the beauty of one-night stands - never having to go back.

So what of the fuck buddy? Well I gather you basically get to have regular jiggy with the same person without all of the tradition and pomp that goes with actually going out with someone. The advantages? You get a regular servicing, you don’t have to get emotionally involved, and no idle small talk. Or so the theory goes. But the truth is we humans are emotional creatures and in the end doesn’t it just become a case of clock-watching until one or other of the involved parties starts to FEEL something? And usually one feels more than the other and we all know that love that is not reciprocated SUCKS.

Is it ever actually possible to avoid the inevitable? I wonder? As interesting as this whole concept is, and as much as I suck at being single, I think I’ll stick with it. I least I know where I stand!

By the way, just a warning. You may find that the main subject of this blog is my holy grail in life – love.

Personally I blame this habit of obsessing over finding the love of my life on John Hughes (well I gotta have a scapegoat!). Watching his films over and over as an adolescent, I began to pick up on his subtle lessons that love comes to all, rich, poor, black, white, and worse still, believed him. He taught me this through films like Pretty in Pink and Some Kind of Wonderful. Other films of that ilk impressed this belief too, Say Anything, St Elmo's Fire - all those wonderfully cheesy eighties films.

Currently however, I’m questioning Hughes' teachings....