The Homes of Donegal

I have a substance abuse problem, my substance of choice is Irishmen. Southern or Northern, Dark haired or Ginger, I love them all.

I've always had a thing about accents, and men who play musical instruments, this usually encompasses my love of the Irishman very well.

Not much makes me go weak at the knees these days, but an Irish accent can do it. My grandmother is Irish so I have some family history there, I was brought up listening to the great Irish musicians and still love the musical influences to this day.

On St Patricks day I met a young man from Donegal, I say young - he is 27, I'm not a cougar. We never ended up going out and getting a drink due to family matters. You may remember me saying he was very sweet and understanding about this.

Last night he sent me a text, nothing pushy, just asking how I have been and what I have been up to. We talked about where we want to travel and general life stuff.

He seems like a really nice guy, sweet, considerate and nice to talk to. The only downside (or potential downside) is that I cannot for the life of me remember what he looks like, I've got a vague idea and I must have liked him enough in my St Pat's stupor to give him my number.

So, seeing as he took the time to text me a month after meeting, and still remained friendly and polite (None of those- so are we going out or what - type messages) I text him to see if he would like to pop out for a drink on Monday.

This is despite the fact that I really have had it with dating, and I find it really hard to get excited about going out with someone these days. Still I'm going to try and do what I always do and go into the date hopeful and not negative. Its all to easy to assume (at least for me) that the date is going to be tragic.

Why did I not invite him out this weekend? Well that would be because I am going to Manchester to see my dearest friends, Bodger and Badger. I am really excited, I just cant wait! They are the kind of friends that make your cheeks and ribs ache from laughing. I love them to bits.

And if things don't go well with Donegal I am in Ireland for a week from 4th May, forget leprechaun hunting, this is man hunting!

I met my love,
By the gas works wall.
Dreamed a dream,
By the old canal.
I kissed my girl,
By the factory wall.
Dirty old town,
Dirty old town.

Love
SG
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