The publicity machine cranked into action with a double page spread in the Daily Express and an appearance on a late night chat show on Radio 5 Live on Saturday evening.
There are several interviews lined up on national radio and in a variety of magazines. I shall know I've finally "arrived" when I'm invited to fall off a cliff into a snake pit wearing nothing but a smile and a pair of stilettos in a new TV reality show called I'm a Nobody - Get Me Into There!
Socially, the hot and hopeful date last Saturday night with The Poetic One ended, not with a full English breakfast on Sunday morning, but a skulking off at dawn with his tail between his legs...
I cannot elaborate for fear of hurting his feelings but after such a long and promising build-up, had I been a virgin (I said Had I!!) I'd still have been intacta the following day...
Friday dawns and with it a date with someone I've have my eye on for quite some time. Having spent the afternoon in a field watching my grandchildren running, jumping, and falling over during the egg, spoon and sack races of their school Sports Day, I meet up with The Smouldering One late in the evening.
A wonderfully balmy night in Little Venice provides the perfect backdrop for our slow, sensual meander along the canals, stopping at intervals to have a drink and then get thrown out of a selection of local hosteleries - not because we were behaving badly, but because of their proximity to residential properties which means they are not granted outside licences beyond 10 or 11 p.m.
And so we find ourselves, far too early into our first date, not knowing where to go next. Loath to invite him home lest he produce an axe and chop me to pieces, we cruise along in my new convertible (yes! I was showing off!) and do a recce round the 'hood looking for a late night bar in which to continue our conversation. Having found nowhere suitable, I question my instinct which answers 'Go on, he seems OK.'
We sit out on my terrace drinking scotch on the rocks and listening to Cuban music until 1.45 a.m. I talk too much. Too much about my past. I should have said I was only interested in the present and the future. Remind me to remember this. No man no matter his age (this one will be 40 - one day...in about 12 years' time!) wants to hear about some older woman's bad marriages and worse divorces.
I fancy the guy but I'm not sure if it's reciprocated. Like me, he's an Aquarian. I recognize some of my worst traits. He's blunt and confrontational. He spent a lot of time staring at me with a deep intensity I couldn't read. It made me cross my arms protectively across my chest in a very bad demonstration of 'feeling threatened' body language. He's definitely not a Yes man. I quite like Yes men. They're not such hard work. But they're not as interesting either.
At around 2 a.m. I said I was tired and like a gentleman, he left. But not before teasing my mouth very slowly with his and grazing his lips against mine like a promise.
I stood my ground. Refused to react...but if he comes my way again, arms folded across my chest won't be enough. I better buy a suit of armour.