This week has been mostly filled with two things:
1 Trying to find women who've had threesomes
2 Turning my flat into a deluxe city-chick style pad (more of which later)
The threesomes piece has, of course, been a total nightmare. I finally found three women who were willing to talk about their experiences, through a combination of emailing mates (one of whom posted it on Popbitch which seems to be populated by many people who have threesomes, if the amount of responses I got is anything to go on) and visiting swinging websites (ah, the stories my compute cache could tell).
The magazine then decided that, actually, they'd like all three people who took part in the threesome to be photographed. Leaving me with one couple who I could use and, 48 hours before deadline, now having to find another two sets of swingers. Who are attractive and aged between 18-25, just to make things even tougher.
Posting messages looking for people who've had threesomes isn't for the faint-hearted; I've had more emails from people saying 'I can't help, but my wife and I will have a threesome with you,' than I've had people who are willing to be interviewed. I've sent them all polite 'Thanks, but no thanks,' emails (the online equivalent of making my excuses and leaving?).
I can tell that my rapidly approaching birthday - my 30th - is having an impact on me. Despite being offered numerous threesomes this week, the thing that's really excited me is Spring-cleaning my flat.
It started innocently enough; trying to turn one of the rooms into a second office. But then the cleaning bug kicked in (I must have caught it from someone, because it's certainly not been in evidence before.) Now, every cupboard has been emptied, and every inch of the flat has been hoovered, polished or otherwise cleaned.
I didn't think that the place looked that bad before, but clearly, my eyes must need checking as I somehow generated about ten bags of rubbish (I decided to go with the 'if you haven't used it in five years, chances are you never will' theory). And there are another five or so bags filled with old clothes and books to go to the charity shop and library (assuming you can donate books to London libraries; I know that you could in Cheltenham, where I grew up, and I like the idea of loads of people having access to more books.)
I'm now utterly blissed out by the place. It sparkles, and has some very funky ambient lighting things going on. To give you an idea of how bad it is, one of my friends came round, saw the place and asked 'Have you turned into a Stepford wife?' I fear the answer may be 'Yes' as I'm now emptying the ashtrays after ever fag and washing up as soon as I finish every cup of coffee (I estimate this behaviour will continue for up to a week before I slide back into my old slovenly ways.)
Other than that, I'm spending a fair amount of time talking to people in India, because I'm still waiting for a computer to arrive from Dell (not hyperlinking because I don't want to get them any more business) nearly a month after I ordered it (estimated delivery time was 7-10 days.) The call centre people are very polite, but sadly appear to do absolutely bugger all. I called them last Friday and they said 'it will be with you at the beginning of next week. By Wednesday, it still wasn't here. I called again. 'It will be with you tomorrow or Friday at the latest.'
It's still not here.
I'm getting distinctly narked; it's got a lovely shiny 17 inch flat screen monitor (because size does matter.) and will look fab in my flat now it's all sparkly. If it ever arrives.
Ah well, back to searching for women who've had threesomes. What a way to earn a living.
Posted by emilyd at April 23, 2004 06:33 PM