Two Hands Anna

So I leave tonight for an epic return to my homeland.

I’m returning a girl who can be judged on her sobriety using a two hands system.

No Hands = sober and still look ok

One Hand = on her way

Two Hands = life of the party but needs to be taken home in one more beer

If any feet gets involved in the two hands rating system its over, best to grab your coat and call a taxi.

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VHS or Beta – I Found A Reason

So I’m djing at Bob Rocks on Saturday night – 2nd of July 2011.

I’ll be playing this song and anything not folk. Although my heart beats for folk my feet dance to indie.

Come stalk me , hang out, eat ribs and drink. It’ll be the bestest!

 

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Fanfarlo – The Walls Are Coming Down

You meet someone they’re lovely but it can never work. What to do?

Enjoy that they make you laugh and hope that one day you’ll meet someone who likes hand holding and Game of Thrones in bed while eating Andiccio pizza ūüôā

 

Fanfarlo РThe Walls Are Coming Down

They swallowed it whole, they went for the gold for the gold
We fall for the same lies, we all have the same shoes to fit
The preachers and books of your empire will fight here alone
Some day they will be forgotten and die one by one

The walls the walls are coming down, the here and now is coming round
It will some day let you down
The ships the ships are coming in, the great ideas are wearing thin
There is nothing left to do

For atoms have gone as far as atoms will go
Your books write themselves, they line up in row after row

The walls the walls are coming down, the here and now is coming round
It will some day let you down
The ships the ships are coming in, the great ideas are wearing thin
There is nothing left to do

No Sex In The Champagne Room Or At Least My Room…

I recently had the opportunity to reconnect with an ex and I did a little happy dance at the thought of breaking the seal on months of abstinence.

I wined him and dined with a finesse most of our previous dates had lacked and we ended up at my house.

I wasn’t leaving anything up to chance and slipped on my sexy underwear and hoped for the best.

We were kissing and I could see the goal posts in the distance when he pulled away and said ‘I think we should stop. I need to get back to where I was emotionally when we dated…It’ll be more special then’ ¬†I gasped !

I initially couldn’t even verbally respond, I just glanced around the room looking for an imaginary audience who would be as shocked as I was. I mean really, I was practically naked, ready for action and he’s says no…lets wait.

I reacted like the nice girl I am and said it was all right and when he asked to hold me I suffered in silence. He finally fell asleep and I escaped the prison of his arms, rolled into a cold spot and pondered my life.

My irritation at the turn of events was baffling, especially since a guy acting put out by me saying we should wait would result in a few choice words and a kick out the door.

When did I become the guy in the relationship? Have I watched too much Sex and The City ? What happened?

A few weeks have passed now and I’m actually pretty glad he was being a wet blanket and I wonder if a few guys feel that way… a foot stamping tantrum and you realise you’ve been saved from a potentially unsatisfying experience.

I’ve never had ex- sex and perhaps I was saved by a metrosexual.

Long live men in silk scarves x

Death by Umbrella…

Am I the only person who thinks they’ll experience death by umbrella?

This irrational fear is a new one brought about by one to many near death experiences while climbing the stairs of Highbury and Islington station. Not a day goes by without some idiot waving about their umbrella (pointy side aimed at my eye). I’ve gotten to a point where I’m skittish like a young wounded wildebeest.

Just today I nearly caused a human traffic jam avoiding being poked in the eye by an older gentleman’s umbrella. That’s not to say ‘oblivious umbrellious’ as I like to call it is a older person disease, no this disease can strike anyone down in the peak of their life, suddenly they feel the need to carry an extremely large umbrella and then swing their arms like a continental soldier, forgetting that people behind them like both their eyes just where they are.

I’ve taken to making weird sounds in response to nearly losing an eye , gentle MEWS of fear and the occasional¬†Arghhhhh. I figure these people with their large umbrellas and no respect for human life, live in a world devoid of logic but perhaps in this world they react to sounds of fear.

I just don’t want to die by umbrella. How humiliating!

Here lies Anna-Lisa struck down in her peak by an umbrella to the eye.

Oh the shame!

People would wear umbrella broaches and a whole sensible umbrella walking campaign would be started. Though at least something good would come from my demise.

Enough of my random musings¬†I’ll leave you with this thought…

It’s all fun and games til someone loses an eye… then it’s fun and games noone can see

Things I regret…

I’m entering the land of the quarter life crisis and while trying not to cry about how old I suddenly appear to be, I’m also trying not to cry over the mistakes I made in the 90’s . I thank my lucky stars there are few photographs to document my fashion disasters but alas all in the name of honesty I will this very night reveal the details of the biggest fashion mistake/ all around disaster night of my life.

The night in question: My matric dance… what North Americans would refer to as Prom and British people ‘I’ve never had one of those ‘.

I was so nerdy and obsessed with films I didn’t know any boys so a friend of a friend set me up with my date. He seemed okay and I met him at the Milky Lane (American equivalent¬†Dairy Queen, British¬†equivalent ¬†Ben and Jerry’s) for our first meeting pre dance …we shook hands and tried to find¬†something¬†in common, I was all Nirvana and had just discovered Nick Drake and he was all Black Eyed Peas (pre Fergie) but he agreed to be my date so I didn’t care.

My mother drove us to the dance and all seemed okay until he refused to dance with me – fair¬†enough¬†for once you see this picture I’m about to reveal you’ll understand him wanting to avoid me – but later I couldn’t find him only to stumble across him tongue deep in another girls mouth. Slightly depressing but I rallied above the situation and ended up slow dancing with my friend Beverly confirming the school years¬†suspicions¬†I was¬†lesbian¬†while letting me take to the dance floor like a scene from Angus, like I’d always imagined my final school dance would be.

The night was horrible but¬†taught¬†me a¬†valuable¬†lesson, never trust your date with a slutty friend and don’t think you’re dancing to the beat of your own drum when you’re clearly drowning in a sea of individuality.

Case in point the reason why it all went tits up:

Yes I’m wearing braids and yes I’m blushing (it’s all I seemed to do in high school) and yes I was not under the influence of narcotics or alcohol …so I have no excuse but¬†I was a bullied teen and took a page out of Madonna’s book and decided to express myself not repress myself ¬†only I was channeling the ethnic version of myself, which alarmed not only my parents but my ethnic friends. It’s embarassing to admit this but from 16 to 18 I had braids and wore corn rows because I thought I was cool. ¬†No amount of pleading from my friends could convince me to abandon my braids.

I’m still mortified when I think back but luckily age has brought with it a sense of humour and perhaps photographic proof for any mini-Anna-Lisa I¬†might¬†create in the way distant future why they should not ¬†express themselves and definitely repress themselves.

Damn these photos will come back to haunt me but I must admit they make me laugh because I really didn’t care what other people thought.

I wonder when I started to care and how sad that I’m 20 something and still do

Christmas Parties…

So as a newly employed staff member I went to my office’s Xmas party with some tribulation and a hint of curiosity.

I work in a two person office so I was intrigued by what the head office staff would be like.

There were 3 women at the party including myself … one was in her 40’s , the other an Essex girl with a tan that made me grateful I faint in heat…so basically I was the best of a bad bunch and the men knew it.

I was hunted like a gazelle, I took it as a compliment as it’s not often in London you get to feel ¬†like the prettiest girl in the room.

Out of the 40 odd men at the party I immediately spotted the only guy with hair with personality and sure enough within seconds of catching eyes, we gave each other the nod.

My nod was about acknowledging we were both surrounded by people who liked Black Eyed Peas, I’m not sure what his nod was about but I felt a kinship

The night flew by with me mostly stuck between people talking about projects they’d done before I started at the company but I seem to have perfected sleeping with my eyes open.

The guy with the hair approached the bar while I was nearby and proceeded to try have eye sex with me. I felt slightly violated ¬† even though he had great hair as A: My boss was next to me and B: His gaze was deep penetrating and I’m not an exhibitionist.

I would have liked to talk to him and see if his hair was right about him and he hated Counting Crows but the thought of making out with a guy from head office on week 2 of my new employment was alittle frightening.

I hope this isn’t a sign of a new sensible Anna…Gasp!

What will become of SlightlySingle if I keep making sensible decisions and avoiding men with good hair

Fear not New Years eve is fast approaching and since I’m surrounding myself with like minded folk music lovers at The HMV Forum I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunity to misbehave ūüėČ

Currently listening to¬†Dead Man’s Bones – Lose Your Soul and hoping it’s not a prophecy for NYE

deadman’s bones

Too Cool For School?

I’m not cool but I’m definately not uncool so when I went out to a party Saturday night I was alittle hurt and shocked by the party goers haughty¬†attitude towards me.

I felt like someone had written ‘loser ‘on my forehead while i wasn’t looking. I checked …I was a little shiny but my forehead was ‘loser’ free.

It was such a high school situation and I reacted the way I did then and turned tail and ran away (literally).

As much as I’d like to say how horrible these people are I can’t , they seem lovely and its not their fault they don’t like me but it does bring up an issue I thought I’d gotten over .

I want everyone to like me.

Did you order the optimism¬†with a side of Narcissism? I did and maybe a few other ‘isms.

I ¬†know not everyone is going to like me just as I know there are people I don’t like for no tangible reason but Saturday was horrible and it cut deeper than when ”My So Called Life’ got cancelled.

Now I have to decide whether to kill these people with kindness next time I see them out -which I will as the indie scene is surprising small in London- or just pretend I’ve never met them which is pretty much what they do when I see them out when my inter group friend isn’t around.

I’m not sure how many times you should be introduced to someone with them not remembering your name before it becomes rude.

I’m too sensitive and wish I’d grow out of it which seems unlikely given how badly I cross roads so I’m just going to have to learn to like the fact I do want everyone to like me, because you should learn to like the things about yourself you can not change.

x SIGH

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