The Nine Girl

It's a hard concept to explain to people, but one that I feel deserves it. So many friends of mine have people in their lives that there's a special something with. That something isn't a relationship, but it's more than just a fling or a repeated one night thing.

I've got friends that have had these 'somethings' and now that 'something' is an engagement, a house move, a cat. I've got other mates that have had these 'somethings' and then they ran their course, they've moved on to the next and it's a part of what was. Time has past and they still don't know what to refer to it as. Were you 'seeing each other', were you 'just good friends' was she 'just that girl I knew'?

I've devised a better (I hope) way of explaining it. Because in this day and age it's a situation we all find ourselves in more often than not and we all get questioned on.So what is she to you then? Well...

Here it is.

To the blokes that have had them, from the girls that have been them.

The Nine Girl. 

The line between a Nine Girl & a Mine Girl is a fine one. It's so easily blurred and one that needs to be stepped with great precaution. You can't overstep if you're not ready for a Nine to be Mine.

For now you have your Nine Girl and there's a certain way it has to go. 

You two are in touch every nine days or so. A week suggests a pattern, ten days suggests forgetting. To the boys you play it out like it's being done to keep your options open but it's because this girl may not be at the forefront of your mind, all of the time, but she's only ever about nine steps behind.

Your text conversations are limited to no more than nine responses and they often only ever occur after nine at night. All day long catch ups aint how you two do. But when you're together nine hours will go by in a flash, of conversation & belly laughs.

The Nine Girl is the girl whose thumb your phone finds after nine or so pints. Who you've drunkenly text nine or so times. The girl who doesn't mind the missed calls at 3.09, but the girl you respect too much to want to see you when you are nine wines in and looking mighty un-fine.

She's no booty call but she's no wife.

You spend hours laughing, chatting & catching up but something will always stop you from stopping past nine am the morning after the night before. You have to step back to draw the Nine/Mine line and you head on your way.

She may be ninth, nineteenth or ninetieth on your list but for you she sits in the top ninety percent. She's a solid nine out of ten.

You're friends with more than benefits. It's friends with 'something' but not everything. You're Nines.

At least nine things always remind you of this girl, a film, a song, a smell. You smile at the thought of the Nine Girl but you can think of at least nine valid reasons why you think this may never work.

She sits about ninth on your WhatsApp conversation list but still features on a list of the nine people you'd want to share your biggest news with.

She makes you laugh with the same jokes you've heard nine times over because there's that something, whatever it is, there.

Your Nine Girls knows where shes stands and that's because love it or hate it, you're her Nine Boy.

You reach nine on the fear scale that she's going to approach the subject of being your Mine Girl when in reality she's nine times less bothered about it than you think.

You may have what you have with your Nine Girl for nine to ninety months, and as long as it suits you there's no limit on it's course. You may see each other every nine days or every nine weeks but it works for you and that's cool.

In this day and age, there's always nine hundred and ninety nine other things that occupy our time and sometimes we can't dedicate the time to make our Nines our Mines.


 Not to say that they won't. Not to say they will.

But for now they're our Nine. And, well, that's just fine.

LL

x

The Subtext of That Text

Yes. I sat at home on Sunday afternoon, alone, and in a hoodie. I ate burritos, with my hair piled up on my head and I watched Sex and The City: The Movie. Contentment doesn't even cover it.

I watched for 90 minutes of cliches and really dramatic break ups whilst secretly praying that work will one day relocate me to New York. What can I say? Writing this blog looking out over Central Park will top Croydon Tramlink any day of the week. (I'm joking flatmate...our home is lush!)

I forgot about the one scene in the film that rings truer with me than any of the rest of them (mainly because they all involve million dollar apartments & $400 shoes). Carrie and Louise from St Louis sit in a bar, Louise receives a 'booty text', Carrie goes into real detail about understanding the 'subtext of that text' and how apparently a man wanting to meet for drinks after 11pm, obviously means he actually wants to get his leg over, and not meet the girl in question for a quiet cocktail.

Well you know, she's a writer, so she knows this shiz. Ahem. 

Watching this scene from SATC made me chuckle. The amount of conversations I've had of late with girls at work where minutes and minutes (read hours and hours) can be spent talking about the possible meanings behind, what is probably, a half arsed one liner from guys they are dating. Women are over-thinkers to the very end and dissecting text messages is one of our biggest flaws.

I decided it was time to tackle this head on and stop us all from trying too hard to get to the bottom of what the 'subtext of that text' really is. To do this, I've chosen some prime 'bloke' texts and some classics from the last few months of chatting over the photocopier to use as an example. I hope this comes in useful and helps you to chill the hell out.

**

What he text: 'Let me know when you get home x' (after a date)

What a girl reads it as: He really cares about my safety and obviously had such a good time that he couldn't wait until tomorrow to text me. Maybe we'll get married. Although, hang on. There's no question mark. Does that mean I have to reply? Will I hear from him again? AH MY HEAD HAS EXPLODED.

What he meant: Get home safe, I was brought up well so have manners enough to check. 

**

What he text: 'It would be good to catch up'

What a girl reads it as: AAAAAAAH he's asking me out on a date. What am I going to wear? Oh I wonder where we'll go. 

What he meant: I might give you a ring over the weekend.

**

What he text: 'how's it all going?' - after several months of no communication.

What a girl reads it as: Oh wow, he's still thinking about me. Bet he's regretting never calling me now.

What he meant: You just changed your profile picture on Facebook, you're looking pretty fit so I thought I'd chance my luck with this non commital attempt at getting in touch. 

**

What he text: 'what are you up to this weekend?x'

What a girl reads: AAAAAAAH he's asking me out on a date. What am I going to wear? Oh I wonder where we'll go. (you'll notice this pattern)

What he meant: I'm making polite midweek conversation. It's Tuesday. I literally have no idea what the weekend holds and refuse to make plans until I've spoken to the boys.

**

What he text: 'Was really good to see you'

What a girl reads: Well, are you going to see me again, are we doing this another time? AAAH

What he meant: It was genuinely good to see you but now I'm going to sleep/play xbox/ the gym/ can't be handling any more conversation for this evening. 

**

What he text: 'What do you fancy doing this evening?'

What a girl reads: Must instantly google Time Out's top ten places to eat in the capital and pre book a table at a good bar so he thinks I'm edgy and cool .

What he meant: Please offer up a pizza and DVD night. I went out on the lash yesterday and attempting to plan more than my journey home is painful. 

**

What he text: ' ;)' normally following a near the mark comment about your underwear

What a girl reads: Oh he is a cheeky chappy, but I'll give him a slap if he goes that far again. 

What he meant: No but seriously, what underwear do you have on?

**

What he text: 'Fancy a quick drink after work?'

What a girl reads: AAAAAAAH he's asking me out on a date. What am I going to wear? Oh I wonder where we'll go. (see where we are going with this)

What he meant: I'm on a stag do this weekend, but don't want you to go all GirlNuts on me so a cheeky mid week drink will keep things sweet.

**

What he text: 'Looking forward to it x'

What a girl reads: He's the one.There's a kiss. He's the one.

What he meant: Friday night will be a laugh, quite looking forward to another evening in your company, the kiss is clear progress from my side. However, we don't really need to text again before then.

**

What he text:  'I'll let you know when I'm about' 

What a girl reads: I must stare at my phone for the next fortnight and not make many plans in case of one of those impromptu mid week date offers!

What he meant: It's unlikely you'll hear from me again. 

**

What he text : 'You about?' Sent Friday 23.06. Typically from a flakey bloke.

What a girl reads: Should I stop everything I'm doing and get on the tube to wherever he is? It's 11pm. It's Friday. We could still have a nice evening together.

What he meant: I'm pissed and have needs. Get me.

**

What he text: 'Ha.' Followed on from some mediocre banter on your part.

What a girl reads: I mean, this is the seventh time I've text him in a fortnight, responses have been thin on the ground but I've obviously hit the nail on the head with that last bit of banter. Winner. Still hope yet.

What he meant: Stop texting me. Now.

**

LLx

25

The quarter of a century milestone is fast approaching & to be honest, I'm having a mild panic. As a teenager, 25 is practically ancient and by this age you assume that you'll have achieved every one of your dreams.

At 12 I was convinced I'd be a famous actress by now, living in an amazing apartment over looking Beverly Hills with a husband & 4 kids.

In reality, I'm still in my Mum's spare room and walk the length of Brixton Hill each day, not red carpets.

In my journey to the big 25, I've learnt some key things, things I wish I could have told my 12 year old self.


Here's 25 of them.

1. Films are in fact enhanced versions of reality. People don't fall in love on the tube. Men don't chase you to airports.

2. It does you good to watch Newsnight or alike. Funny as it seems, intelligence is attractive. TOWIE is actual shite.

3. If he doesn't text you back, he's not being aloof, he's not playing it cool, he's just not that interested. Move on.

4. Snapchat doesn't constitute flirting.

5. One bottle of wine is usually enough. If people dare you to drink more, you don't actually have to.

6. If you get to the day before payday and have money left in your bank, you don't have to immediately spend it. Your account doesn't reset every last Friday of the month.

7. Getting pissed on a Monday will ultimately result in you getting pissed every other night of that week.

8. Cut out Malia, Zante and alike. Just go straight to Ibiza and realise what an actual clubbing holiday is like. Fall in love with the island. Vow to always return.

9. Approach flames with caution. Especially old flames.

10. Expensive make up is money well spent. Cheap wine is not.

11. Shaved legs are always important. 2nd date or 2nd baby. There's no excuse.

12. You won't win the lottery. Be on time for work, don't rage your boss.

13. Talking of punctuality, live by the rule that if you are on time, you are late. Be ten minutes early.(I can't take the credit for this one, it's someone else's motto, but it's a good'un)

14. Accept compliments graciously. Don't be staggered by someone finding something nice about you.

15. Being nice is easier then being horrible. Smile, be polite, go far.

16. You can't have 26 best mates. At most you'll have 4. Invest in them.

17. Don't buy clothes that you have to slim into. You will never wear them.

18. Your passport should be one of your most precious possessions.

19. Print your photos. Technology is amazing and great for many things. Don't rely on it to house your memories.

20. Don't hold grudges. He might have been a tit & upset you, but if he's trying...let him.

21. It's unlikely you'll ever be famous. Get a job you love, do well at it & earn a good wage.

22. Facebook is irritating and borders on dangerous. Don't rely on it as your only means of communication. Go to the pub & talk to your mates.

23. Don't waste your time trying to be like other people. You're the best at being you so you might as well just stick with it.

24. You'll fall 'in love' a few times before the real time comes a knocking. And apparently, when it does, you know.

25. You are only 25. Don't go rushing into forevers. There are years left. Enjoy them. Wear stupid shoes, go home when the sun's up & always say yes to tequila.

LL x

Texting Back

I often listen to my Nan talk about the days when she would write to my Grandad when he was out at war. She would write him a note about how London was, how she was, let him know she was safe. He would write back, sometimes weeks later, and share stories of life on the front line.

A real romance. A real story. 50 odd years married. Years and years apart with nothing but a letter now & again.

I’m sure my Nan would check the window for the postman and would have butterflies if something were to land on her mat with my Grandad’s distinctive writing scrawled on the front.

I’m also sure that she was more than happy to wait the weeks. The more weeks, the more special the letter seemed. She just couldn’t wait to have him home. No matter how long she waited. They were only “courting” at the time. This was their way of chatting each other up.

I often wondering what it would be like if my Nan and Grandad were "courting" now. I reckon things would be going a little something like this

.

Grandad would text Nan after having met her in the pub, having had a bit of drunken banter. Met her Friday, Sunday text. Standard two day turn around.

Nan would give it about forty minutes to an hour before replying with a cool, calm, contrived response, accepting his invite to go for a drink. Nan would not put a kiss at the end of the text. Grandad hadn’t put one on his. She wouldn’t want to seem too keen.

So Nan and Grandad have gone on a few dates. Nan’s been well behaved and not got stupidly drunk, not spoken about her crazy ex who once got a kick out of joyriding milk floats, not sworn too much, kept good eye contact but most importantly she played it cool.

 Grandad, cool as ever, is really keen. Nan's like no other girl he knows. She drinks gin like a sailor in head turning dresses. Her laugh is contagious and she likes a good gangster film. Get her talking about football and he's ready to get down one knee.

 After a month or so he can see this going places and reckons he wants to see a bit more of Nan. He’s going out for his birthday in a few weeks and has already bought her a ticket. He means it.

Nan reckons she can sense this and let’s be honest, he’s a catch so she’s beyond keen back. Grandad’s done the running, sorted out the cool east London bars to go too and treated Nan to a couple of cinema trips. It was her turn. 

Nan’s a modern woman. She works, she drives. She knows she needs to be making the moves back. She doesn’t want Grandad thinking she’s not keen. He’s been pretty hot on the texting thing. Most days a cheeky one liner will come through, perhaps a wink emoticon. There’s been texts back and forth. Nan’s confident on this one. After years of bad All Bar One experiences and sketch situations with blokes at work, she’s landed the guy that does the right thing. He replies!

So casual as, Nan sends a text. A cheeky offer of a few drinks and a bite to eat on Friday night. It’s Monday so plenty of warning. Grandad will love this, a confident woman, a woMAN with a plan. Send text.

The standard forty “I’m not going to instantly reply but I want to still appear keen” minutes goes by. No response. Nan gets home. No response. Hair wash. No response. Dinner. No response. The absolute killer…the next morning. No response.

The entire next day in the office is spent in blind panic. Nan’s head is filled with scenario upon scenario about what could have happened. By her afternoon cup of peppermint tea, Grandad is either dead or has fallen head over heels in love with a woman on the bus.

Tuesday night/ Wednesday morning is dedicated to Nan constantly refreshing her Facebook feed. 1am Wednesday morning and Grandad checks in at the pub and likes a few comments. 'Checked in using Android'. The “he’s been mugged so couldn't possibly reply” option is out of the window.

Wednesday is spent heartbroken that Grandad hasn’t been involved in a fatal accident and is in fact ignoring Nan. She spends the day re-reading the text. Wondering if the smiley face and the wink was a step too far. Maybe she wasn’t direct enough? Maybe she was too forward? 

5pm Wednesday and the sending texts to herself thing begins. Poor Nan just wants to ensure that her phone is actually working. It is.

By the end of the bus journey home Nan has decided to join the gym, dye her hair and eat salad only for a month. He clearly is so repulsed by the sight of her name, let her alone her face, that he can’t bring himself to reply to a god damn text.

"That’s It!", Nan thinks. She’s moving on. She didn’t like him anyway. Another shower. Her phones on silent and in the bottom of her bag. She’d rather Aunty Rene didn’t send a text, she hear it and get her hopes up.

Gets in to bed. Making a mental note to smile at every bloke on the way to work tomorrow. 48 hours is plenty of time to secure a date for Friday night. She has after all already told her Mum she won’t be in for dinner. The potential humiliation is too much to bear.

11.15pm Wednesday.
1 message received
Grandad;
yeah sounds good ;) what time?

Nan blushes even though nobody’s there. She falls asleep wondering what to wear and giggling to herself at the jokes she knows he'll already make. 

Bloody Grandad.

 Imagine if he’d have left it 3 weeks to reply like he did in 1941….

LL x