The Social Butterfly

After a busy week which included the disastrous first (and last) date, Saturday night rolled around. I’d been invited to a housewarming by a girl I met at my landlord’s dinner party a few weeks ago and as I’m currently accepting all social invitations, I bought a bottle of French wine and walked around the corner to meet some of the Primrose Hill set.

There’s nothing like flying solo at a party where you only know one person to test one’s self confidence. I gave myself a good pep talk in the bathroom mirror before I went, made sure I looked and felt as good as possible and promised that I would stay for an hour. If I was having a good time, I could stay as long as I wanted as long as I behaved myself. 

It turns out that I quite like meeting random strangers. I had a great time and met loads of interesting people, many of whom worked for the BBC. I did a little shameless networking and talked to someone in marketing about Gem’s Friends who are rapidly coming out of hibernation. I met a(nother) successful writer, this time comedic and I think there might even be some more dating in the near future as my number was requested and surely it can’t be worse than Thursday’s date. Onward and upward.

Being the new girl in town (especially one with a rather interesting or unconventional life story) people are inviting me along to things and while it’s not always easy to go alone, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how nice people have been and the host of last night’s party was no exception. 

I stumped home in my ridiculously impractical, confidence-boosting Prada boots at 1am having stayed for three and a half hours. I’d behaved impeccably, no horror stories or hangovers for this social butterfly, just a pair of extremely tired feet. 


Time for bed.

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