I'm a walking cliché when such a creature I sight

I fell in love four times today.

I think it's the result of being so goshdarned jaded and tired of the big bad world, hold on while I break out the red wine (actually I quite fancy some but we only have good stuff in the alcohol cupboard of mostly evaporated drink), that makes the silly romantic side of me to be a little over the top. There's not really a happy medium with me. I'm a cynic until he complains and then I either ditch him or lose myself in fanciful notions.

But when I'm single I fall for just about everybody I meet.

I will say right now that they were all female. I cannot help that.

First off I got up early this morning and turned up to my history lecture for the first time in a month. Why? Because today was Marxism. What I didn't know was the lecture was being taken by a woman who had a fantastic accent (although where she was from I can't say) and she wasn't hugely attractive. Until she spoke. She was one of those lecturers that really cares about what she was talking about and for once it was a subject I was interested in hearing about. She had a black shirt on and hadn't buttoned up the sleeves. Every time she spoke of the Proletariats and the Bourgeoisie, her arms would wave around excitedly, flashing white skin to the half empty lecture hall. I could have listened to her all day. She's teaching for another week. I might just turn up.

I saw the second on the way down ashton lane where I had like the best panini thing ever. It was her hair. Originally brunette she had dyed her hair pink and then blue or purple. The result was a technicolour mess that shouldn't have worked but left me entranced as she rummaged in her bag for something. The way she shook her head made all the colours whirl and I swore it looked like they flashed between them all. I desperately wanted to know what possessed her to that to her head, and if she knew it was going to end up so spectacularly beautiful or if it was a happy accident. But alas, like always, I hesitated too long and she was gone.

The third stalked past me in the library. Tall and self-sure she had short hair in that burgundy colour that everybody seems to be choosing these days and a waistcoat that just looked right. She was gorgeous in a androgynous perfume haze as she pushed everyone else out of her way to get to the desk.

And lastly I noticed a pair of legs propped on the back of the broken seat next to me in archaeology. Her tights had large swirling roses that trailed up to a purple skirt. She talked through the long explanation about geoarchaeology and where the stones of stonehenge came from about some show that was like Battlestar Galactica but like really funny and with that guy from Two Guys and a Girl (Nathan Fillion I interjected and was met with a big smile and isn't Firefly the greatest). She had curly dark hair tucked under a purple beenie and a genuine smile that showed her fat teeth.

And I chose to share this with you rather than keep it to myself because I don't wanna talk about the football. I ranted all afternoon to Helen (who obliged with sympathetic sounds) to the extent that the table of boys next to us felt emasculated and I heard "So um like who do you support?" and 2 Rangers fans half-heartedly attempted to out talk me.