Blurred memories Memoirs of a lost and bewildered Australian chick through Europe.

Bah humbug! Well the valentines day equivalent anyhow. So another year, another time the florist hasn't turned up. At least i have a kinda excuse this year..that being that i've only been in the UK less than 2 weeks so nobody knows me well enough to buy me flowers yet.....maybe they're waiting a little while still trying to suss me out. Ahhh optimism is a beautiful thing isn't it! So no, i haven't found my mr darcy yet, or prince harry, my earl , duke or barron......not even bloody sven the swede like anna suggested. All there has been so far is a department made up of mainly women (albiet friendly nice women, but women nonetheless), a wardsman who reminds me iritatingly of of one i used to work with in liverpool (its creepy , it really is! i do seem to attract them don't i?!)and a scary middle eastern man at the pub on saturday night....don't ask...