Love and robbery

I was going to write last night, but Wednesday evenings are pretty busy, what with yoga, a late dinner, toenail clipping, loofahing, moisturising... Big, big night for me.

However, I did manage to squeeze in a visit to Powell and we did what we do best - talk our way through a few cups of milky tea. In our overview of life and the mysterious workings of the universe, we (somehow) found ourselves discussing love and what we're looking for in a man.

(I actually typed 'boy' first, but I didn't want the universe to misunderstand and send me yet another mixed-up boy. I'd like a man now, please. Universe, are you listening? I said 'man'.)

I brought up the theory presented to me once by Joan: your perfect mate is basically an accomplice. That you have to pretend you're a bank robber and that you're looking for someone to drive the getaway car. Or if you prefer to drive the getaway car, someone with guts of steel who'll swagger into that bank with an insouciance that the newspapers will never tire of mentioning.

Bref:

• someone who has qualities and skills you don't have so that you complement each other
• someone who will be fun to plan stuff with and not get too angry if you forget the map
• someone who will be a blast to spend the money with
• someone who can keep your secrets and who will trust you with theirs
• someone who can throw on a t-shirt and hit the road in 10 minutes

I'm making a list, ladies, so help me out. This is for all of you. What else am I missing?

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Let me end with a word of praise for Rufus Wainwright. I know some of you have been influenced by stories of his snobby, pretentious behaviour, and although there's no telling how much of those are true, let's separate the man from his art for a moment and remember that Poses remains one of the best albums of all time.

I listened to "One man guy" about 18 times this morning. Makes my three cubic foot of blood and bone feel good all over.