Thank goodness for D! In the social circles that I am condemned to mix in due to my decision to live in a North-West London ghetto and my unoriginal and unexciting choice of job, D reminds me that that you don’t necessarily have to compromise your opinions and become an automaton in order to get somewhere in life.
Without wishing to turn this blog into a love-in before it even gets started, the only inane and seemingly endless dinner parties and “coffee evenings” that are bearable are those where D is in attendance. OK, so the stalkerish tendencies are a worry and – if I was ever to be bothered to invite people for a meal myself - D wouldn’t be the easiest to cater for, but these slight faults can be worked on. D is fun and witty, never afraid to say what she thinks, knows when to be sensitive or the life and soul as appropriate, she has a strong sense of principles which she will not sway from, for better or worse and even if it means exposing herself to certain high ranking public officials, she can give as good as she gets and she knows how to laugh at herself (which is good news, boys, as she also has one of the sexiest laughs around!).
D can be relied upon to give a sane, reasoned judgement on any crisis that you are experiencing (as long as it isn’t one of her own of course). Strangely, she seems to think that we men are the ones that are difficult to read. Well, I am here to tell her that there is no mystery to us - and it is about time someone explained the enigma that is woman…
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