The idea for It’s Sunday and I don’t have a boyfriend is courtesy of a friend who told me to rip off Sex and the City and Girls. However, before anyone threatens to sue, I have prepared a disclaimer. There are 7 reasons why It’s Sunday and I don’t have a boyfriend is neither Sex and the City or Girls and I have listed them below because I can’t afford to pay intellectual property:
1) Chloë and Ella are too young for the former and too old for the latter
2) Chloë’s Jimmy Choos say ‘made for H&M’ on the inside
3) when Chloë get a cab she moans to the driver about not being able to afford the fare and how pointless it is because she’s going to miss her train/plane/tube anyway
4) none of this takes place in the US (except if Chloë makes it big with this blog and can afford a visit – so share this blog if you want some locational variety in the future)
5) you won’t catch Chloë or Ella using the words ‘dating’ or ‘exclusive’. In other words none of the action does not take place in New York
6) where Chloë and Ella hail from there are two possible states to be in with a boy or man: your Facebook status bears the mention ‘in a relationship’ or you are just ‘seeing each other’, which probably entailed getting you drunk at the pub followed by falling into bed and doing it again until one of the two sobers up and becomes wiser for it. You’ve guessed it: most of this takes place in the UK.
7) we are not a foursome: it is just Chloë and Ella (and the male protagonists)
Chloë and Ella met at school when Chloë was fifteen. Chloë and Ella were both single, then. Some things have changed. For instance they are twice as old. Other things haven’t.
Chloë sometimes wonders whether the data she has collected about men since she was fifteen has been of any use. In moments of pessimism or optimism, depending on how you look at it, Chloë has considered the idea that if she were a lesbian she would fall in love with Ella because Ella is romantic and once gave a boy an onion with the current UK poet laureate’s Valentine poem about an onion and Chloë doesn’t know any men who would give her an onion so falling in love with Ella might have solved some of her problems.
In writing this, Chloë realises there is a flaw in that plan, namely that if Ella didn’t also become a lesbian she would just be a lesbian in unrequited love with her straight friend. Based on her existing experience of unrequited lust with the opposite sex, it’s fair to assume that all sorts of very comparable awkwardness would ensue. Awkwardness is the great equaliser. Best to plough on with men, then.
About It’s Sunday and I don’t have a boyfriend:
It’s all there in the name.
More specifically, it could be called: It’s Sunday and and neither of us have a boyfriend.
Chloë’s approach is more of a all-about-the-21st-century-go-to-bed-with-whoever-you-want-and-hope-for-the-best. Ella’s approach is a no-one-night-stands-and-hope-for-the-best and might be considered smarter. But this is Chloë and Ella’s recent discovery: Chloë’s double bed may sometimes serve its purpose, and Ella may have gone through a self-described “ice-age-period”… it’s taken both of them to the same place. That place is spelled: N-O-W-H-E-R-E.
To make matters worse, both Chloë and Ella are currently working in fields where their finances are unlikely to afford them an upgrade to non-H&M designer labels anytime soon.
Chloë’s dilemma: does she hang up her feminist heels and try to find a banker willing and able to support a wife whose idea of working doesn’t include bringing home any bacon – or cooking it for that matter? The problem with that dilemma is that the only banker she ever fancied had a wife and she babysat his children. (She kept her mouth shut about that crush, before you start judging.) Another problem with that dilemma is that it remains hypothetical because having not so far successfully ‘bagged’ a regular guy, it seems that the plausibility of meeting a rich one who wants to make her his own personal charity case is somewhat reduced.
Here is a list (in no particular order) Chloë made of types not to go for in future:
– The flatmate
– The is-he-gay?
– The stuck-in-the-friend-zone
– The friends-with-benefits
– The first love
– The boyfriend
– The friend of above-mentioned
– The younger brother’s friend
– The toy boy
– The older man/the writer
– The guy-you-don’t-even-like-but-keep-going-to-bed-with-for-some-reason
– The guy who warranted this quote, lifted from a stand-up comedia: “I would call you a cunt but you’ve lacked the depth and the warmth”
– The one whose two-year-old crawls into bed with you on morning-after date three (and turns out to be a pathological liar – but the daughter was real).
So now I have to figure out pseudonyms the guys on the list. Not that they would ever admit to reading something that starts with Sex and the City and Girls. Nor would any recognise himself from his tagline on the list. Because it’s a caricature of them, of course. Which doesn’t mean it’s not all true. Stil, it’s only my version. Then again, it’s not my fault the boys/men featured here are too busy shagging their girlfriends (or in one of their cases his boyfriend?) to write their own version. Not that it would be the right version.
Word of warning: don’t start following this blog unless you’re in it for the long haul: we won’t stop It’s Sunday and I don’t have a boyfriend until one of us has had 500 Sundays of Boyfriend.
(After Ella’s married, I’ll just make it a one-woman show. Meanwhile, you can follow Chloe and Ella and guest bloggers