Good Things Come to Those who Wait

My patience has been rewarded.  I got kissed 4 times.  Who knew all it would take was some carefully placed mistletoe?  Last Saturday, my friends decided to take a little trip to Bath where they have a Christmas market in the streets around the abbey.  When we arrived, there was a homeless guy selling bunches of mistletoe.  I joked that I should buy some and my friends encouraged me enough that I couldn’t resist.  We all know I’m a bit of an exhibitionist, so this shouldn’t come as much of a surprise.  Anyway I gave him 60 pence and in return was given more than enough mistletoe to do the trick.  Jokingly, I then said something about wishing there was a way for me to clip a bit to the front of my coat hood.  Well, shockingly, at that point a hair pin was proffered and the mistletoe affixed to the appropriate spot.  That’s when the fun began.  Now, in my defense, I’ve been around plenty of mistletoe in my day and have never reaped the rewards of it, so I thought this would be the same thing.  I figured we all have a laugh and maybe a few other people would find it amusing and no harm would be done.  Well, I was wrong.  If there’s one thing I’ve learned about the English, it’s that they take their traditions seriously, even if that means kissing people in whom you have no interest or having a Queen who really doesn’t do much.  Mere moments after the mistletoe was put into action, I saw one of my friends coming at me with lips pursed.  Before I had time to react, his lips were attached to my cheek.  Then we had the brilliant idea to take a picture of the moment, which meant that he had to leave those lips firmly planted for quite some time.  I am pleased to report that the picture turned out very well.  We then met up with a few other friends and the mistletoe magic was repeated, luckily I was better prepared this time.  When I saw the face approaching mine I offered a cheek and everyone was happy.  We wandered around the market for a while and plenty of comments were made, but no other kisses were given until we were in the car park getting ready to leave.  The couple ahead of us had finished paying when the man turned to me and said, “Tempting fate, eh?” to which I jokingly responded, “And hopefully people.”  He apparently thought I was serious because he said, “Well let me be the first then,” and proceeded to plant one on my cheek.  At this point I realized that this mistletoe business could get me into serious trouble.  I resolved to wear it every day.  The final mistletoe escapade of the day came that night at the ward Christmas party.  I was getting ready to leave and was showing my clever invention to one of the old married guys in the ward with whom we’ve all gotten to be friends.  Again I was not prepared for the consequences of my mistletoe decision.  I was powerless to avoid another wet kiss on the cheek.  When I got home that night, I decided that I will never again be afraid to kiss someone under the mistletoe.  I can just tell them it’s a tradition I picked up in England, among other things…

The state of things

Hello faithful readers.  I’m sorry for the infrequency of posts lately, and for the lack of any proper snogging.  Believe me when I say, I am working on it and am probably closer now than I have been at any point since I got here.  For the Tweed fans out there, a quick update.  He has gone to the U.S. for an unknown amount of time.  He is looking at continuing his studies in the States and is checking out law schools there.  Thus, we have had no contact for weeks and, as the saying goes, absence either makes the heart grow fonder or makes it forget.  In this case, absence has not been good to him.  Those who know me well know that proximity is usually a key, determining factor as to how much I like a guy.  If he’s not around much, I tend to move on to someone who is. 

Enter…Swish.  Things have begun to progress nicely with him.  This past weekend has seen a substantial increase in the amount and intensity of our flirtatious interactions.  Saturday evening there was an activity that I wasn’t too keen on attending until I found out that Swish would be there.  I flirtatiously texted him about getting a lift and he flirtatiously responded in the affirmative.  He sat next to me throughout the activity and we exchanged a bit of witty banter.  A quick side note on that; I very much enjoy flirting with people who are quick witted and can handle a fair amount of good-natured ribbing.  Swish has proven to be just that kind of person.  I thoroughly enjoy flirting with him because he’s a tease and also smart enough to both give and get witty exchanges.  He also has pretty blue eyes and dimples, which never hurt anybody.  Anyway, back to Saturday night.  After the activity, a group of us decided that a jaunt to McDonald’s was in order.  Now, I’m not a huge fan of McDonald’s, but it is cheap and fast (just like me!) so off to McDonald’s we went.  It turned out to be fertile flirting grounds that night.  Even my friend who hadn’t witnessed my interaction with Swish before this night commented on both the quality and quantity of our flirtation.  My favorite part of the evening consisted of him giving me the pickles off his hamburger.  You know, like a married couple would do.  When he dropped me off later that night, I felt reasonably sure that there was something there. 

Those feelings were reinforced the next day at Church.  He again chose to sit next to me at every chance.  I tried to ignore him just a little, but I’ve never really been good at that game and so, paid him a fair amount of attention.  We shared a hymnbook and sat closer to each other than was really necessary, which of course led to the occasional leg or arm graze.  Witty comments were made and laughs exchanged, all accompanied by flirtatious glances. At one point he even draped his arm on the back of the pew.  Then after the meeting, instead of immediately leaving as he usually does, he stayed on the bench and we flirted fairly shamelessly (in the words of my roommate) for a solid half an hour.  A fair amount of teasing ensued and I, of course, pretended to be put out so he would have to say something nice.  Standard flirtation techniques were put to good practice.  There was even some casual discussion on our attitudes concerning making out (I’m pleased to announce that we’re on the same page there) and it ended up being another typical (for me) Sunday afternoon conversation.  Meanwhile, my roommate and the people he drove to Church were waiting (mostly) patiently to go home.  Finally, the time had come to call it a day.  We parted on good terms with the hope on my part that it wasn’t all for naught.  Later that night, when I checked my facebook, he had requested my friendship.  Sometimes the littlest victories are the most rewarding.  

P.S.

Last night my friend invited a bunch of people to go see 2012 at the cinema.  I had no interest in paying the equivalent of about $11 to see a movie that I was pretty sure would be a waste of time.  Well, then he mentioned that a certain young man by the name of Swish would be coming.  So like the lame girl that I am, I decided to go.  We did end up sitting next to each other at the movie and made a few witty remarks to each other throughout the night.  I had decided to be a little aloof to make him really work for it.  Unfortunately, he didn't do as well as I would have liked, but come to find out, my efforts were not all in vain.  In Sunday School I caught him looking at me a couple of times and then he followed me into Sacrament meeting where he sat next to me as if that's our standard operating procedure.  He was quite flirty during the meeting and some witty banter was exchanged.  Afterward my friend said she thinks he fancies me a bit, so apparently that whole hard to get thing does work sometimes.  

Everybody dance now!

Last night was my second Reading YSA dance and I am pleased to announce that it went much better than last time for a number of reasons.  First of all, I felt like I was looking pretty hot.  A healthy dose of confidence always seems to make things go better.  I put in quite a bit of effort to produce the desired effect, although my roommate said I looked like an angel, which was not exactly what I was going for. But at least I was justly rewarded for my efforts, which we will get to presently.  Secondly, I know more people now, so I don’t have to follow my roommates around like a little puppy.  In fact, I spent very little time hanging around the roomies this time.  There’s a guy in the stake (in whom I am not interested) who loves to dance, so he was my dance crew partner.  Which brings me to the third reason last night was fun; they actually played good music most of the time.  We had a bit of Beyonce, some Kanye, and even a song or two from the boy band genre, all of which are very danceable.  Suffice it to say, I did my thang on the dance floor and quite enjoyed myself.

Now on to the fourth and most important reason last night was fun, the guys.  I know you’re wondering, so I will end the suspense.  Tweed was not in attendance.  It turned out all right, though, because it gave me the chance to meet and flirt with a lot of new guys.  And I took advantage of that chance.  First of all, there’s a guy in the ward, Swish we’ll say, that I’ve kind of had my eye on lately.  He’s been quite flirty since the beginning and last Sunday was fairly keen to keep my attention.  I’ve hesitated to say much just yet, but last night changed my mind.  Anyway, I was hoping he would be at the dance, and was not disappointed.  I was in the midst of shakin’ it like a Polaroid picture when he got there and he came right over to say hi.  Now, the music in the gym is very loud, which can be a great advantage if you like the guy.  Circumstances being what they were, Swish had to lean in fairly close to make himself heard and there was a little bit of the hand on the elbow action from both of us.  He danced with our little group for a while and then went off with some other friends.  However, later that evening, we found ourselves together in the foyer, which is where everyone goes to talk, since you can’t really hear in the dance.  We chatted and flirted for a while and I felt pretty good about the progress we made.  He now has my number with strict instructions to put it to good use.  The good news is that I’ll most likely see him at Church tomorrow and can continue my pursuit. 

The second guy, Obi-Wan, I met for the first time last night.  He’s not from around here, so I don’t know how much I’ll end up seeing him, but I hope this isn’t it ‘cause I actually thought he was pretty cute.  Our meeting needs a bit of set-up.  There’s a set of sisters in our stake that I’ve become friends with.  They are pretty popular with the boys, mostly because they’re beautiful and flirtatious.  So naturally, we get along.  Anyway, I told them that I was in need of a good snog and that I needed their help to find a guy who would be willing to do that with no strings attached and who wouldn’t spread it around and destroy my carefully crafted reputation as a good girl.  So the quest began.  A number of guys were suggested, but nothing concrete came of it.  I was introduced to a few guys, a couple of whom I wouldn’t mind snogging, but this was mainly a fact-finding mission at this point.  I had been introduced by one of the sisters to Obi-Wan earlier in the gym, but couldn’t really hear what he was saying and didn’t want to invade their conversation so I eventually left to go back to tearing it up on the dance floor.  At the end of the night, I found myself chatting again with Obi-Wan and one of the sisters in the foyer.  Her boyfriend came along and she cleverly left us to ourselves.  We had a nice chat during which time I found out that he’s a PE teacher.  How perfect!  He was very nice and funny and I felt perfectly comfortable talking to him.  He also has really cute eye crinkles.  Plus, I found out later that he’s 32.  I was pretty pleased to find out there are a few older guys left in England, as most of the ones I’ve met are in their early 20s, which makes me feel like a pedophile.  So yeah, all in all, a pretty good night.

Guy Fawkes What?

Okay, so details.  As I’m sure you’re all aware, Thursday was Guy Fawkes Day (for a bit of history, the G-rated version of the day’s events, and some pictures, check the other blog.)  Tweed had volunteered to have us all over to his house for the festivities.  We met first at our house to make our Guy.  Then we headed over to Tweed’s house for the burning.  We lit a few fireworks (that’s not what I mean, dirty minds; I’m talking actual fireworks.)  I love fireworks so I was busy taking pictures and video of the craziness, but not too bust to make sure to catch Tweed’s eye every now and then.  Then it was time to burn Guy, so we stuck him in a big metal garbage can and torched the poor guy.  As the fire burned down, most people drifted back to the patio and Tweed and I were left together in the near darkness.  By the romantic light of Guy’s smoldering remains, we shared a bit of good conversation.  We were quite near the fire and each other.  Tweed was doing the staring thing that makes me feel like he’s going to kiss me and I was being dutifully coy.  During our conversation, he had thrown a few of the dud fireworks into the garbage can and at one point, one ignited, startling me into Tweed’s waiting arms.  We then decided it would be safer to be on the patio.  The party moved inside and I hung back in the kitchen with Tweed while the rest of the group went to the living room.  We chatted for a while and were then interrupted by everyone else.  The decision was made to return to our house, as no one there was trying to sleep. (Tweed lives at home and his mother is scary sometimes.)  Somehow Tweed and I ended up next to each other on our love seat where there was plenty of room for us to not be touching, but we were.  After a game of charades, the night ended with me walking Tweed to the door and my friends teasing me about our interactions.  I think I can safely say there is some interest there, on both sides.  I’m getting more and more comfortable around him and thus more and more flirtatious.  I hope he knows what he’s gotten himself into.  Poor kid.

Tidbits to keep you interested

First of all, let me apologize for the fact that the last post is bigger than the rest.  I'm new at this blogging thing and I don't know how to fix it.  It bothers the perfectionist in me.  

Anyway, a couple of quick updates and teasers are in order.  I just got home from Sweden and I'm too tired to write very much tonight, but I didn't want to leave you all in suspense any longer.  Full and complete details on most of these subjects will follow in due time.

1. The Slacker has a girlfriend...with whom he lives.  Would have been nice to know a couple of weeks ago.  Plus, what's he doing flirting with me if he's already living in sin?

2. Jersey showed up completely unexpectedly at Institute on Wednesday.  Good thing I was looking hot.

3.  I spent Thursday night with Tweed.  No, dirty minds, not in that way.

4. Sweden has better looking people than anywhere else I have ever been.  It was disconcerting to not be the only pretty girl around, but flattering to be noticed nonetheless.

The plot has thickened

Last weekend, I went to London on the pretense of seeing the sights, but really to hang out with a guy, Jersey for our purposes, whom I had met a couple of weeks ago.  His best friend lives in our ward and he was visiting for the weekend.  I found him quite attractive and interesting that first evening.  I decided that I needed to get to know him better, hence, the trip to London.  Anyway, the initial attraction has now grown to a full-blown crush after a weekend of chatting and assorted flirtatious interactions.  To start, Jersey’s got fabulous lips and beautiful eyes, and in the interest of full discretion, I have a definite weakness for a good pair of lips.  He’s also the artsy, does-his-own-thing-without-caring-what-others-think type that I’ve found myself attracted to on occasion.  Plus, he plays the guitar and wears crazy clothes and hums to himself while he’s walking down the street.  But anyway, enough daydreaming, back to the story. I went to London prepared to stay through Sunday if things went well, but with the option of leaving earlier if I wasn’t getting the vibe.  Well, I stayed until Sunday evening.  It was a great weekend.  We walked together all over London and had the chance to chat without a bunch of people around listening.  We sat next to each other on the couch looking at pictures and later watching a movie, did the dishes together after dinner, and generally had a good time with each other, at least from my perspective.  He was very attentive and careful to make sure I was comfortable and taken care of.  I tried to make sure I wasn’t the one following him around wherever he was and was rewarded for my efforts by him coming to where I was.  When it was time for me to leave, he volunteered to walk me to the station with his friend.  The goodbyes were said and he gave me a hug.  I then spent the entire journey home planning our future, while he probably didn’t give me another thought.  Such is life, I suppose.  Hopefully this crush turns out better than all the rest have.  Stay tuned.     

            Saturday night we all went to a frozen yogurt shop called Snog and Jersey bought me this button without me even asking.  I know.  It's perfect.

Here we go again

My roommates have convinced me that I need to write about a guy in the ward who has been paying me a fair amount of attention. We’ll call him Hawkeye for our purposes.  Lest you think this is good news, I will endeavor to set the record straight.  We’ve all had a Hawkeye at some point in our lives.  In my case that’s about all I’ve had.  You know, the “nice guy” who really deserves a girl who is actually interested in him, but still insists on chasing something far out of his reach.  He’s usually not attractive, lacks some key social skills, has horrible fashion sense, and can’t take a gentle hint.  He might have hobbies that include making movies with his friends, playing video games, or playing in a marching band.  Well, you guessed it, Hawkeye is that guy.  It doesn’t help matters that he’s the only other American student at Reading and we are thrust together several times a week, as we’re both dependent on other people for rides to Church, Institute, and FHE.  What I originally interpreted as a mere desire to connect with something familiar, I have now had to admit is something of a crush.  I don’t know why I have such strange power over the men I don’t want. Part of the problem is that I just can’t be mean.  I’m too nice.  Unfortunately this type of boy misinterprets “nice” as “she’s in love with me.”  Now, I wasn’t entirely sure at first that Hawkeye fancied me, but after asking my roommates to observe and offer their opinions, it was concluded that indeed, he was smitten.  He talks almost exclusively to me and in a group talks at me, which I hate, especially when I’m trying to listen to or talk to someone else.  He comes in my room uninvited and always has a really boring story that he insists on telling me.  He tries to sit by me at Institute every week and is constantly inviting me to go on day trips to see stuff around Reading. I have yet to accept.  Bless his heart.  Drastic measures may need to be taken. 

An Interesting Development

There’s a really cute guy in my classes.  On these pages he shall be known as The Slacker because he never does the readings for class.  I met him the very first day and we chatted a little bit.  I could tell right away that we should be friends.  He was a little sarcastic and a bit of a tease.  He’s got dark hair, light eyes, and a scruffy beard.  I do love me some good facial hair, darn it.  I've hesitated to say anything about him since our interactions have been scarce.  Since that first day, we haven’t had much of a chance to chat…until last class.  I’ve tried to sort of position myself in class so we could sit next to each other, but have been thwarted in my efforts.  Well this time, it worked.  We were in the library for a session on how to use the library to help us find what we need.  Since I’m the daughter of a trained librarian, and since I'm not stupid, I already knew most of what they were telling me.  This made it possible to spend most of class flirting with The Slacker.  We sat next to each other at the back of the classroom and exchanged witty banter throughout the hour we were there.  I won’t bore you with the details of the repartee (unless you ask for them,) but suffice it to say, I was pleased with the developments.  

Get your freak on

So, some of you know I went to a dance last weekend.  It's the first dance I've been to in quite a few years.  I now remember why it's been so long.  I really must be getting old.  All I could think about was how loud the music was and how lame the kids looked flailing about to the noise. Also, there was a kid there who was wearing overalls unbuckled and dangling from the waist.  Yep, just like we used to in the late 90s. Also, they didn't have one slow dance.  What kind of Church dance doesn't have a single slow dance?  Isn't the point for us to share wholesome, romantic moments with some guy in whom we have absolutely no interest while our friends watch and laugh?  That's what I had always thought.  Also, they played music that I've never heard before and which I have no idea how to dance to.  Give me some Tupac or Snoop Dogg and you'll see magic.  Techno though... not so much.  

Another problem I faced that night is that I typically rely on my wit and charm to win people over, which is difficult to do when you can't be heard.  This time though, I had to rely on my good looks and straight teeth.  Luckily, I looked hot.  Perhaps needless to say, success was still mine.  I met a couple of black guys, so we're getting that on track.  I chatted up a couple of the guys I've met and thought were cute.  I made eyes with a few others.  Did my thing.  So I guess it wasn't a total loss.  Tweed was there and spent a good chunk of the dance near my side.  After the dance we had a bunch of people over to our house and it has to be said, he was flirting with me.  I'll admit that I flirted back.  I do enjoy talking to him.  He's quite intriguing.  (I'm sure you're wondering, so I will tell you.  He was not wearing his blazer this time.)  I also talked to the overalls kid.  Not impressed.  

Well anyway, they have one of these every month.  Hopefully next month will see me hanging out in the dark in one of the classrooms with some hot british guy.  If it does, you better believe you'll hear about it.  

A Tweed Update

Since I know you guys are all dying to know, here are the details of what's happened since our date.  On Sunday, he sat next to me at Sacrament meeting, and at the fireside we had later that evening.  My roommates noticed that he pays me quite a bit of attention.  He spends most of his time talking to me and trying to get me to pay attention to him.  I haven’t decided how I feel about this.  I saw him Monday at FHE as well, where again, I caught him looking at me a lot.  In contrast to most guys, he doesn’t look away when caught.  It’s a little disconcerting.  Then on Wednesday at Institute he came in late and took the seat next to me.  He also made quite a production of leaning over several times to look at my scriptures or the lesson manual.  After class, when it was time to play the game, he positioned himself next to me again.  He is being quite deliberate in my humble opinion. 

(By way of further explanation and because a few people have asked, Tweed is 27 and getting ready to go law school.  I find him inexplicably attractive.  I’m not sure what it is.  He’s not conventionally good looking.  He’s very skinny and balding, but somehow cute.  His eyes crinkle up on the sides when he smiles and I like that.  He does have a tendency to sort of stare at me, which I don’t like, but can you blame him really.  I met him the first day I was here and thought he was very nice and accommodating, but not my type.  But, the more I talk to him, the more I enjoy talking to him, so that’s a good sign.  We’ll see.  I’m not ready to say that I’d date him, but I would go out with him again. I have a feeling that he’s not a real snogger, though.)

By popular demand...

Now about this date.  It began as any other Friday night in recent memory.  I had no plans.  My roommates were both going out, but I was alone.  (As I have no phone, it’s difficult for me to make plans.  Just by way of explanation.  I’m sure if I had a phone things would be vastly different.)  I had just eaten dinner and was settling down for an evening with my friend the Internet when there was a knock on the door.  This is slightly out of the ordinary thus far in my England experience.  I went to the door and peeped through the peephole, which incidentally is the perfect name for what it is.  Not like some things whose names are completely unrelated to what they do.  Anyway, on the other side of the door there stood a guy from my ward in a tweed blazer who will henceforth be referred to as ‘Tweed’ thus protecting his guilt or innocence, whichever it may turn out to be.  Since I knew who he was, I let him in.  We chatted for a few moments and I had the feeling he was gearing up to invite me out to do something.  Before he could, however, his phone rang and it was the missionaries reminding him that he had correlation meeting that night.  He took his leave, but promised to return at the conclusion of the meeting.  I said that would be lovely and we parted company for a time.  An hour and a half later, there was still no sign of him and, again lacking a phone with which to be kept apprised of the developments, I was waiting patiently on couch trying not to get too nervous.  Then the knock on the door came again and there he was.  He came in, I asked if he had something in mind, and he suggested the cinema.  I realize I should have let him get there on his own, but I had already been waiting patiently for hours.  I was in no mood to wait for him to get around to it.  So we headed into town, on foot, which normally would have frustrated me, but people here walk everywhere, so no big deal.  It also gave us a chance to chat, which often doesn’t happen much on first dates.  He’s a very smart person and I’m still full of questions about Britain, which made for quite a pleasant walk.  When we arrived at the theatre, he made me choose the movie.  For the record, I hate choosing the movie.  What if you choose something offensive?  Or worse, what if you choose something lame?  Hopefully my choice hasn’t destroyed any possible future we may have.  Anyway, I laughed and covered my eyes quite a lot, but ultimately enjoyed myself.  I think he did too.  Then we walked home and he came in for a while.  We sat on the couch and talked until long after midnight.  All in all, not a bad start.  Stay tuned.  

Back in the Saddle

I had a date last night.  Just thought you’d all like to know.  

Close, but no cigar

September 30, 2009

I ventured onto campus yesterday.  It is astir with people and activities.  I was comforted to see what appeared to be a juggling club.  It reminded me of the sword and quill club of BYU days.  I went to the library to use the internet and was chatting away with my good friend Tara when out of the corner of my eye I saw someone approaching.  I thought at first he was going to use the computer next to me, but I was mistaken.  He, in fact, was coming to talk to me.  The first words out of his mouth were not hello as one might expect, but “I like your hair.”  I’m pretty sure that’s the first time that particular thing has happened to me.  I made some comment about them not having anything like it where he’s from and then he told me he was from Africa, which I had already surmised.  I was nice enough to him without encouraging him and after a few moments he left.  I have a feeling that this may not end up being an isolated event.  Tara was disappointed that I didn’t take advantage of him for my first snog blog entry.  I have decided to clarify for the purposes of future reference.  While I do like black guys, I prefer them not to be fresh off the boat, as it were.  I like them with a little white in them and a general knowledge of appropriate social interaction according to our culture.  It also doesn’t hurt if they have diamond stud earrings, a couple of tattoos, and a ghetto-fabulous strut.  

Really?!?!

September 21, 2009

Today we arrived in Prague early in the morning after a horrible nights’ sleep aboard the “most dangerous train in Europe.”  I think I woke up every time the train slowed down.  Plus the cabin next to us had an amazing snorer who could be heard through the wall.  Suffice it to say, I was not in top form, appearance-wise or mental state-wise.  After dropping our luggage off we heading into town.  I needed to eat so we stopped at a café for a quick bite.  Megan had disappeared, to take a picture most likely.  Two men sat down at the table next to me and I heard them speaking English with what I thought was an American accent.  It turned out to be Canadian, but same thing anyway right?  Anyway, it bears mentioning that they were both at least 40.  So we chatted for a little while about what we each did and such.  Then one of the guys, Terry, who had an earring, asked where we were staying.  Remembering everything I’ve learned in movies, I evasively answered that we were staying a little ways out of town.  He then told us he and his friend Bill were staying in a friend’s apartment not far from there.  He then suggested that we join them for dinner.  I was caught completely off guard.  Megan even dropped that she was married and it didn’t deter him.  We put him off by saying that we wanted to try some good Czech food.  We visited for a little longer and as we were preparing to leave, Terry again invited us to dinner.  We politely refused again and left.  I’m not entirely sure what dinner would have been but I’m pretty sure I know what he had in mind for dessert.  

Dang it!

(editor's note: My sister and I took a trip through Eastern Europe before school started.  Some of these early experiences are from that trip.)

We arrived in Krakow the day before yesterday.  It's quite a nice city, surprisingly enough.  We wandered around all day and I had my eye out for a potential candidate for the first snog of the European era. There seemed to be a severe lack of worthy young men.   I saw a couple, but nothing outstanding. Last night, as we were sitting on the platform waiting for our night train to Prague, another train arrived and hundreds of young Polish guys spilled onto the platform singing and cheering a recent Polish soccer victory.  The mystery of where all of the cute Polish guys had gone was solved.  Had we been just twenty minutes later in getting to the station, there might have been an entry for the snog blog.  AAARRRGGGHHH!

By Way of Introduction...

Hello gentle readers,

My name is Andrea and I live in England.  This is a fairly recent development.  I previously lived in America, but have decided to cast my net into a different pond as it were.  I intend to experience life in England to the fullest.  In pursuit of that goal, I plan to snog as many guys as I can.  Now, before you go judging me too harshly, remember they have accents.  And I have no power to resist.  Plus, I have lovely American teeth, so I'm equally irresistible.  I expect great things, but don't be disappointed if sometimes the entries don't contain any actual snogging.  I'll do my best, but as the saying goes, it takes two to tango.