"I like a woman with an arse you can park a bike in and balance a pint of beer on."

Way back when, I think it was sometime in 2006, I began to think of myself as some sort of lesbian Bridget Jones. The archetype seemed fitting. I was very single, slightly inept at dating, and hopelessly cycling through one freak of nature relationship after another while writing about it. I know the whole "modern woman on a quest for a mate" has provided fodder for many a television show, movie, and book, but I was providing a twist. A big fat gay twist.

So what happens when Bridget Jones gets into an eight month relationship? How does the archetype evolve? Is this the sequel that never gets written? (Or does get written in the case of the second Bridget Jones book. Here's to hoping that I don't end up in a Thai prison.)

Anyway it's nice at least to have someone who loves me just as I am -- even though I always spill food on me when I eat, that I'm always covered in cat hair, that I'm clumsy, and the opposite of suave.